


Animaux et Fleurs

by Senora_Luna



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses, Faerie Folklore, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: 1700s, Adult Content, Beast Mode Sex, Beast is Called Adam (Disney), Beauty and the Beast Elements, Behind the Scenes, Disney Movies, Erotic Poetry, Erotica, Expanded Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, France (Country), Friendship/Love, Historical, Historical Accuracy, Historical References, Multi, Philosophy, Poetry, Royalty, Sex, Smut, Social Commentary, Teratophilia, Virginity, monster x human, rococo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senora_Luna/pseuds/Senora_Luna
Summary: An expanded version, with included adult content, of the 2017 Beauty and the Beast movie. Elements of the Fairy Tale and other versions intermingled. Begins after the trip to Paris. Contains Belle x Beast!Adam.Belle decides to take it upon herself to unravel the curse, and learns more about herself-and the others as she falls deeper into an enchanted, forbidden, and often erotic world."...All animals must, even flowers do…I see no reason to act ashamed.” Belle muttered-despite how fast she felt her heart hammer at the nature of this-she’d never talked to anyone like this, about such forbidden topics. Of course she understood why to be ashamed-but talking to Adam was like being in an entirely different world that did not have the judgmental limits of her village.





	1. Chapter I

* * *

 

“Let’s go home” Belle’s voice was barely a whisper, her fingers trembled tracing over the rose shaped trinket her Father had so perfectly captured in painting after painting.

Within moments, she and Adam stood once more in the great library-with no sign they had ever left save the rose in Belle's hands. For the first time she finally had evidence from her Mother, but it somehow made her death impact her like it was fresh. Now she knew, she knew why her Father never spoke of it. Had it been the Enchantress's magic that she felt she had so clearly seen her mother's death bed? The dying woman planting a final kiss on the rose bell, as she watched her husband and daughter depart forever? The rose was stuffed down into the pockets of her skirts, so she could bring her hands to her eyes in hopes of slowing an onslaught of tears. Adam was momentarily stunned-this was the exact opposite he meant this adventure to insight-perhaps as a gift of the Enchantress it could only bring sorrow. Sympathy had been so foreign to him as a selfish young man-it was difficult to recognize until he was left to face it now in himself-finding the words inside he longed to hear when he himself lost his Mother.

            “She must have…loved you more than anything in her world, to let you go to prevent you from plague, rather than keep you close for her own comfort.” He wanted to touch her, put a hand upon her shoulder-even embrace her, but he wasn’t about to presume this unbecoming form on her when she already was in such dismay. After all he stood nearly two feet higher than the lithe girl. Belle had never heard the Beast’s voice so tender, and it hadn’t even occurred to her it could be possible even after their newly found common ground in the garden. True, she was no longer afraid of the thunder like rumble that was the tenor of his voice, but this much emotion was striking a new cord.

            “That is,” She tried to gather herself, “This is incredibly kind of you to say.” Normally she was capable of being strong, as she so saw it, for her Father. Her weeping over the loss of Maman would not bring her back, and it would only serve to wound her already lonely Papa who did so much to keep her happy despite being a widower. “I am making such a fuss, when you were trying to do something kind for me weren’t you, I-“ She began but Adam interrupted, this time not for the sake of debate.

            “I wouldn’t call the loss of one’s mother a fuss.” He said gruffly, having spent enough time around her to recognize she would cling to her rational reasoning even in the most emotional or daunting situations. After all she tried to climb out a window on her first evening here (He had learnt from Mrs.Potts), rather than weep for her own situation. It gave him pause she was even trying to apologize after such a hardship for **his** feelings-had he really been so self-centered she would assume he thought like so? It was embarrassing to consider he could be so utterly obtuse.

            “It was years ago-“ Belle again protested with her nervous exhale of a laugh she often did to contain feelings.

            “I lost my Mother over twenty years ago, and I-“ Adam had been so determined to correct her he hadn’t expected to stumble into his own emotions as he felt an old wound stir within-his entire posture tightening. “I-well,” The brief flicker of his own vulnerability seemed to resonate within Belle as the girl finally stopped her protesting and looked up to meet his gaze. The library became deathly silent, for a space that either one might suddenly exit to avoid confronting their grief. However rather than incline to the self-serving impulse Adam found himself leaning into another one, and that was to do something to lessen the pain Belle was currently facing. He was never well skilled with words unless there was a book in hand, so he finally resigned to whipping out his silk handkerchief from his coat pocket and nearly forcing it into her hand. Somehow though, it worked. Belle was not accustomed to someone perusing her to indulge sorrow.

            “Lumiere and Mrs.Potts told me the story, your Mother was also taken by sickness…” Belle said softly. Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes and make a comment about gossiping servants. Had it been anyone other than her, he surely would have been angry such a personal story was being shared. However, the moment he found her brown eyes-looking upon him with something he could hardly recognize, it wasn’t just pity, it was understanding, all of the tension left his body in an exhale.

            “Yes,…and so I say to you, especially, to learn the true horror of it now, I wouldn’t-…well I wouldn’t put a time limit on your mourning.” Was this making any sense-he wanted so badly to make a difference, she had never looked like this-even when he dragged her Father away in such a callus manner. Even then there had been fiery defiance in her eyes-but now he could only see the agony and loneliness in them. “You don’t have to rush your grief as if this is ‘Hamlet’.” He added, hoping if anything books would resonate with her.

            Belle smiled, that small nervous self-containing laugh again, but something in his tone struck her deeply. The chuckle faded to a whimper and she finally lifted the handkerchief to her eyes as tears began to run freely over her flushed cheeks. Carefully, Adam reached out a cautious paw to her shoulder which shook with sobs. The contact somehow gave Belle the permission she didn’t even know what she was awaiting, and she took a step forward allowing her forehead to fall against the beast’s great chest. Adam was for a moment in shock-before he felt a great surge of tenderness, and relief he could be comfort to her instead of a source of fear. With careful motions he patted a soothing paw against her back.

            Moonlight shone within the library, and the only sounds outside of Belle’s muffled sobs were that of distant clicking glass-the preparation of evening tea, and with the enhanced hearing of a beast he heard even further-the wolves outside, Candanza’s distant longing playing, the banter of the servants. All of it faded away as his senses became fixated on caring for the trusting wonderful girl in front of him. It felt a mixture of a mere few seconds and hours, but it was only a couple minutes when Adam finally found his voice.

            “The servants will think I’ve been horrid to you, if you’re seen in such a state, let me escort you to your room.” He admitted reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to live in the library if he could keep this closeness.

            “No no, you have been nothing but a friend,” Belle gathered enough of her breath to respond, lifting her head as she took a step back. It hadn’t occurred to her how very exhausted she was until he mentioned returning her room. She nearly protested it was a silly thought he could upset her this way, and it suddenly dawned on her how much he really had changed before her in these last few months. Was this the same creature who had terrified her enough to run into a wolf infested forest? This bashful companion who enjoyed a good romance, though he would never admit it? “I really am grateful for the experience,” she stressed and allowed herself to be led from the library by the glow of a single (thankfully non-sentient) candle he held.

            “I’ll show you Paris another time.” He reassured her, as they carefully crept around the corridors. The last thing she needed was a barrage of questions from his well meaning but at times overbearing staff. Somehow, they managed to reach her bedchamber without being caught. To each of their relief, Madame Garderobe (the former Soprano international treasure, turned wardrobe) was still in one of her deep slumbers, each snore sounding like the brief scales from a vocal exercise. ”Good Evening-“ As Adam turned to leave his sleeve snagged, as though a lose nail had ensnared the fabric, but with a second glance he recognized it was Belle’s small hand.

            “Can you stay with me,” She began, her eyes darting toward the floor a moment, “for a little while longer…” Despite her embarrassment she managed lift her eyes back to his. If he had flesh instead of fur, surely she would have seen the color he felt rising to his cheeks. For a moment Adam was transformed back to his fully human self-memories pouring in of his grand parties-except for the one that lead to this miserable curse. Those memories were usually too painful to consider, how he’d once been such a handsome and powerful man that any beauty he gave a smile to, would find herself in his bed that evening. The fact Belle was capable of such-he would have never guessed-it never occurred-

            “I do not believe I have the concentration to read this evening,” she motioned to the stack of books on her night stand. “I feel I will be too consumed my melancholy thoughts unless I speak to someone,” The innocence of her request brought a shame to him for even considering she was capable of such wanton intention. Adam attempted to disguise his faux pas as a mere clearing of his throat.

            “Of course, of course, as I said grief is not something to be rushed over.” He replied as if he'd known all along. Following her steps in the darkened room, the pair took a joint seat upon the edge of her grand golden bed.

            “How did your Mother pass?” Adam was surprised- during the moment of pain she was thinking of him once more, again that analytical mind of her’s. How bold she was-to ask him a prince, but in that moment he could feel nothing but tenderness.

            “It was a horrible sickness…a consumption in the lungs. People rarely recover-and she...tried her best, but could not.” Adam sighed out the pain, it was no longer an acute puncture which bleed forth tears, only the scar stung.

            “I am sorry for you too.” Belle whispered, her room was in complete darkness save the small candle he had carried down the corridor. In this flickering illumination, the beast’s profile and silhouette were imaginably human.

            “Well, at least I had an expensive upbringing,” Adam added, doing his best to soothe his own pain. “I should say yours was a much more pitiful situation.”

            “I had my Father.” Belle instantly protested with a dry laugh. “He was-…he is, always been wonderful to me.” These words stung Adam in a way he hadn’t expected. In these last months she hadn’t mentioned her Father the entire time, nor had she tried to escape here-hell she had returned on her own will to his utter amazement rather than leave him to wolves. But she did miss him-and this Maurice was not some common thief, he was selfless enough to leave everything behind of his old life in Paris to save her. Now Adam felt embarrassed for being so harsh on the old man, and even felt-guilt? Was she too afraid of the wolves to leave once more-or did he dare dream she had come to enjoy her time here-her next comment stopped his musings. “I wish you could have had a better Father too.”

            “I am sure I would have still become the same self-assured bastard with or without-“ Dismissively began Adam.

            “Oh I would say…you are not as much of a bastard when one knows you better.” Belle began, with the smallest twinge of a smile. The smile somehow brought pure relief to his heart.

            “Only not so much-perhaps by only a few inches then?” The retort was playful enough to widen the smile on Belle’s face.

            “Maybe even a foot.”

            “That is most likely the highest compliment you have ever given.”

            “I can give compliments when they are well earned, such as when you are not behaving like an absolute beast.” A twinge of a smirk met her face, and Adam let out a low scoff, but the wry smile remained on his lips.

            “Well-I suppose I’d forgotten I was anything other until you came here.” The soft admission struck Belle, as a great tenderness filled her chest.

            “I think I had forgotten too-or was beginning to forget my knowledge and education are not as negative as the villagers perceived it.”

            “You should be proud you’re above their common ignorant lot-don’t let their insecurity make you think less of yourself. I’m sure your Mother wouldn’t have sent you away just so you could grow up timid of some plebeian’s options.” Adam found a great deal of defensiveness rising up for her-much more than he’d felt for himself even when she taunted him. It was infuriating to consider this remarkable woman lived her life recognized as anything less. Belle turned away, and it dawned on him maybe it was too harsh and aristocratic a comment if she did manage to find some…semblance of friends in that village. As the candle dimmed down, he could make out a shimmering line down her face. “Was that too much?”

            “I-…I wish I could have known her.” Came a barely audible whisper from Belle. And so carefully, hoping he still had the same permission as from the library, Adam’s soft paw covered her shoulder easily, with careful positioning that the claws did not snag her fragile sleeve. Immediately she welcomed it and leaned into his chest once more, releasing all of her grief. There they sat, he allowing her to openly weep until their candle stick sank down to the metallic holster. The moonlight soon became their only source of light in the room. Belle’s sobs transitioned into sniffles, then eventual silence as she took comfort against the Beast. He was incredibly warm, and surprisingly soft, for the intense power she had seen him show against the wolves. This was her last expectation. Then suddenly she felt herself being shifted, pulled away from her source of comfort. “What-“

            “You are falling asleep,” came the low rumble-she imagined his attempt to whisper. “If you do so on me I will wake you when I leave.”

            “I do not want you to leave yet,” Belle protested and leaned up halfway on her forearms to grab his wrist. In the increasing darkness his form could easily become more menacing, it surprised her how familiar it was by now. Adam felt his entire body go nearly ridged as he realized she was attempting (in her very mild human girl strength) to pull him to lay beside her. A million thoughts crossed his mind in protest but nothing came out. “Unless you are terribly tired.” Belle paused-of course she was astute enough to notice his strange reaction despite her dismay. Adam could curse.

            “No-not at all-“

            “Then why the sudden huffing?” And of course she was not to be lied to.

            “Well I-,” This was just delightful, now he seemed like a petulant boy in front of her as if offended by her grief. “I simply want to be sure…I do not compromise your honor.”

            “My honor?” Belle cocked her head, momentarily taken from her grief.

            “Well I-“ He was sinking faster than a ship with twenty holes- “I  would not wish your reputation to be spoken of,”

            “My reputation?” She sounded almost indignant now.

            “I’m not about to make a Desdemona of you-“

            “You mean smother me with a pillow? I did not expect-“ Belle had looked flustered he was choosing now when she was so exhausted to act as though he was such a great beast.

            “No I was not referring to that! I would never-I meant the accusations!” A ship with holes, and on fire.

            “Accusations-accusations of what?”

            “Oh come now Belle, you are a young unmarried woman and I am-well I am not much of a man still-but-damn it you understand my meaning!”

            Belle stared, her face still red from weeping, her frustration building he was making an already difficult time for her confusing-until a recognition registered over her features and her pinched in anger brows slipped the opposite way as she looked down. Her mind drifted back to when her Father had taken aside the first time Monsieur Gaston had insisted on walking her home. Now Maurice was never a man to try and control his rebellious daughter-if anything he encouraged her eccentric nature, but he had warned her many men would come after her-and there were certain pieces of herself she must protect from their selfish whims. Even worse, he had described the scorn the townspeople, (especially in church) would give any unmarried woman they believed too intimate with a man. It had hardly crossed her mind because besides Gaston-most men found her behavior too off-putting to pursue her. And Gaston-well besides making some especially crude comments outside her garden gate from a pint too many-she did not fear perhaps as much as she should.

            “Oh, I see..” Belle began tightly. Adam felt a pang of horror-she must think him a pure animal-incapable of control.

            “I need you to know, I would never-…I would fall on my own sword before I ever did anything to compromise your honor.” Did he hear himself right? What had the enchantress done to him, a man once famous for being able to seduce even the most pious married woman. “You already know how the damned servants enjoy their gossip.” His eyes flickered toward the still slumbering wardrobe. “I feel I would be unable to resist breaking some fine china if they began tales about you when there was not even a sin to accompany it.” His face now looked especially embittered as he sighed heavily, and finally turned to face her-but the girl had vanished. Across the room Belle had taken some of the long stretches of fabric from underneath Madame Garderobe and was now fastening them to the canopy over her bed.

            “There, is this enough?” Belle said with a twinge of impatience until he stood to help her once recognizing the intent. The combination of gold and pink curtains encased the bed in darkness, and hid it away from prying eyes.

            “You’ve done this before?” Adam remarked at her craftsmanship and the pre cut fabric.

            “I did not like the idea a hairbrush or-…or dust pan, or chamber pot could be a person in disguise suddenly observing me in my sleep.” Belle huffed crawling back to the middle of the bed on her knees. “So yes I devised this.”

            “I did not realize you were such a crafter…” Adam was a mixture of amused and sheepish for all the fuss he had raised now.

            “I enjoy tinkering with physics and practical mechanics, that is why I took mostly science books from the library.” Despite the darkness they were enveloped in-he could see her with his preternatural eyes. She reclined back where he had lain her, her face still extremely drained.

            “Impressive…” He grumbled feeling his own heart began to hammer that he was enclosed in this bed space with her.

            “And another thing,” She began, as he realized his scolding from the girl had yet to end and rolled his eyes. “I would not have been so foolish to invite you here if I thought any of your intention ill-I may be a farm girl but I am not simple or naïve.” Belle said defensively.

            “I never said you were.” He muttered in a low growl.

            “Well good-you had best not.”

            “I shan’t.”

            “Good!”

            Silence.

            She was thankful for the darkness, for there was a faint flush on her face, her grief had been so strong and the strange atmosphere enough that it had not occurred to her until now this was indeed the first time she’d ever had someone other than family in her bed. The thought of family pained her heart once again as she sighed heavily, the defensiveness dissipating as once more she reached for the Beast’s hand in hopes to prevent his leaving.

            “…Please just stay until I fall asleep. Just this evening.” How could he possibly resist. Finally he gave in, and taking care of his great weight on her bed, allowed himself to recline at her side. Now he could see her face clearly once more-in fact he had never been so close to it. Despite being red and puffy-her eyes were such warm brown, and in the darkness sparkled. He had never noticed either, how across her nose and cheeks she had light freckles which only served to accentuate her uniqueness, the same way her crooked little smile could. It was almost painful to see such beauty flushed in pain and exhaustion. He wondered as she kept hold of his wrist if it was truly bringing her any comfort.

            “Perhaps if I read to you?”

            “It is dark.”

            “This curse at least brings the benefit of better sight.” He assured. “Let me see what you have here,” As he began to rifle through her stack he quickly found she was not making light of her passions. Volume after volume of subjects he had been forced to study, she had taken up for pleasure. Just looking at some of the covers were enough to give him a headache-he wasn’t about to drone on Machiavelli or Newton to her when she was in this spent. “For one who enjoys 'Romeo and Juliet', you certainly are being strict with your academic reading.”

            “I did not get an expensive education, I am compensating,” She sighed. “And perhaps thinking of physics will take my mind from all this…”

            “Now is not the time to compensate…” He returned his gaze to her, her eyelids were already drooping while her fingers ran absent-mindedly through the fur upon his forearm. As much as he meant this moment to comfort her, it was impossible not to be overwhelmingly aware and warmed by her closeness. Finally he was able to recall a poem he had memorized in his youth which sounded much more soothing than a hefty volume of science.

“Now off with those shoes, and then safely tread

In this love’s hallow’d temple, this soft bed.

           “You do know a lot of poetry for such distain for it....” Belle murmured drowsily-but her small smile urged him on.

“In such white robes, heaven’s Angels used to be

Received by men; Thou Angel bringst with thee

A heaven like Mahomet’s Paradise; and though

Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know,”

           He was surprised how well he was able to recall this, it was even putting him to sleep. Why had he memorized this poem in the first place, he could barely recall the meaning outside some romance.

“By this these Angels from an evil sprite,

Those set our hairs, but these our flesh..upright.

 Licence my roving hands..., and, let, them, go-“

         Suddenly he stopped-and suddenly he was awake remembering why he had memorized the poem and its meaning. Belle however had not and murmured.

         “Go on,”

         “I recalled it is a poor poem.”

         “It sounds quite lovely I want to hear the end.”

         “No no-

         “Is this another assumption I am too simple to understand your kind of poetry?” Her eyes opened now giving him a sour look.

         “No I remembered why I did commit it to memory in the first place.”

         “And why was that?”

         “Go to sleep Belle.” He huffed. But his rejection only fueled her inquisitiveness as she half sat up.

         “I should think after all the trust we have begun to share you would not so insult me by keeping secrets like a poor excuse of a friend.”

         “Que Dieu me vienne en aide,” He sighed heavily as she outwitted the situation to her favor. Relenting, he turned to his back not about to keep her eyes with this explanation. “As a youth I, found it in a book of poetry and I-well I am no longer proud of this, I learnt it to aide while seducing as it is a-poem of-well you catch my drift.” He wanted nothing more than to rush out of the room.

         However to his surprise-she began to laugh softly. It was strange enough he looked over to see if her exhaustion had turned to delirium.

        “I am not mocking you…but you are so shy at times, I can not imagine you-even in your youth-as a great Cassanova or Zeus about women.” She wondered if this was going to offend him but was too exhausted to care, until he let out a low laugh as well.

        “That is it-I was not-such is why I had to memorize poetry. I was rubbish speaking to women.” How odd-this sort of thing would have of insulted him once but now he simply looked on the young man painted like a peacock in great wigs with a strange distance of humor.

             “Oh I know.” Belle chided, “You still are.”

             “Yes yes have your laugh, young men make foolish mistakes. Despite what you believe I can admit when I made a complete ass of myself.” 

             “I shall have to force you to commit that to writing, no one is going to believe me that you are capable of such admission. I imagine Lumiere would faint.” On any other night he surely would have given her a prideful look-but tonight it was just such relief he’d brought a smile to her face once more after she’d been so sorrowful.

            “You needn’t bother, least you forget, they were all there when I behaved so obnoxiously-at least at the parties-not the seductions.” He corrected anxiously, only able to mock the past for the first time since his present moment was happy enough beside this girl. Belle seemed pensive once again, her eyes dropping. “But enough of that…”

            “No I just-…it is odd to imagine how different you were, this silly prideful boy, grand parties in this dusty old castle, the contrast is staggering.”

            “Hm…you see why everyone here is so sardonic then.”

            “Is that why no one will say your given name?” Belle’s question startled him from any sleepiness. She observed him cycle through several responses, before he settled on:

            “Well-they’re servants. Except when being flippant I am just 'Master' or 'His Serene Highness'-that nonsense.”

            “Well?” She finally raised a brow impatiently.

            “Pardon?”

            “Aren’t you going to tell me? I have been politely waiting several months.” She said with an air of exasperation.

            “What-my Christian name-surely you’ve heard the servants-“ Now he seemed more embarrassed than when reciting the poem.

            “I was not about to get them in further trouble if you were so strict about rank, and classes as Mousier Cogsworth seems to insinuate.”

            “He is easily more obsessed with such than the rest of us combined in this castle.” The Beast rolled his eyes and Belle sat up to meet his gaze.

            “So tell me then.” Now her beautiful brown eyes were standing out in the darkness around her. He wondered how well she could see him and if it was frightening. It somehow made him feel entirely smaller than her in that moment, and with a rustle of a voice he replied,

            “Louis Adam Comte de Antione”

            “Louis Adam Comte de Antione,” Belle mused over each word, wishing she had more light in the room to apply this new identity upon him.

            “Lord knows that sounds just ridiculous coming from you-“

            “I beg your pardon?” Belle gave him her outraged smile for when she was not about to be trifled with.

            “That is not a critique on your rank-calm yourself-I merely say all that pomp-and title, and so forth, I suppose the point of this curse was to help me see how overblown it was-…family, and the staff in private simply refer to me as Adam.” Somehow this was making his heart hammer faster than even her original offer to join her in the bed. It felt wrong to try and consider himself anything other than a beast.

            “Adam,” Belle reached forward running her hand across his cheek within the darkness-as if rebranding him-validating his manhood-in one single gesture. For her, it felt as though a new phase had begun today in their relationship. This was no longer ‘The Beast’ before her, whom had locked away her Father, this was Adam. Adam who read Shakespeare, Adam who appreciated her options, Adam who took her Paris, Adam who somehow knew what to say when her heart was the heaviest. Adam the Beast, and she smiled. Perhaps that is why she could not find much friendship with any of the men in her village (Except the good book keeper Pere Robert), men could so easily be prideful from their station in society. But Adam, Adam could empathize with her position, and it somehow brought such comfort her to, that all fear left her heart. For once her ration and logic dominated mind, allowed the intuition and heart to take flight, as she reclined once more-laying her head against large chest. “Thank you Adam,”

            “It’s”, and his attempt to be aloof and dismissive was nearly impossible. “It’s…funny to see that is all it takes to bring a smile to your face.”

            Something unspoken began between them as he ran his large fingers through her tousled hair, smoothing away the hair band which was originally in it, and he could see her in the darkness-how she looked at him-somehow making him feel entirely boyish again as if he’d never held a woman so close in his life.

            “Will you finish the poem?” She asked softly, keeping her eyes upon his face even in the darkness. Inhaling for his bearings once more and to try and remind himself he was the expert in this situation he began:

“Licence my roving hands, and let them go,

Before, behind, between, above, below.

O my America! my new-found-land,

My kingdom, safeliest when with one man mann’d,

My Mine of precious stones, My Empirie,

How blest am I in this discovering thee!

To enter in these bonds, is to be free;

Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.

Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee,

As souls unbodied, bodies uncloth’d must be,

To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use

Are like Atlanta’s balls, cast in men’s views,

That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a Gem,

His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them.

Like pictures, or like books’ gay coverings made

For lay-men, are all women thus array’d;

Themselves are mystic books, which only we

(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)

Must see reveal’d. Then since that I may know;

As liberally, as to a Midwife, shew

Thy self: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,

There is no penance due to innocence.

To teach thee, I am naked first; why then

What needst thou have more covering than a man.”

            Once more in darkness he felt a great flush spreading through his body-the way she watched him so intently now-how close she laid, the thoughts the poems conjured...It would have awakened long shelved arousal in him had he not been so nervous.

            “It is, rather crude as I warned.” He cleared his throat trying to transition his mind away from the image of allowing his hands across her body-

            “I have read and heard far more crude things.” Belle sighed, and it was true. Especially from his unpresuming voice and in that low rumble, there was nothing vulgar in the elegantly composed text.

            “Yes-I suppose Shakespeare himself can be quite bawdy if you are reading the original versions…” Adam murmured, unable to take his eyes from her penetrating gaze.

            “Well yes, and I have found plenty a bawdy book left behind in taverns or tossed away in rubbish bins at the market.”

            “What in God’s name would you be doing that for?”

            “Our library was very small in my village, so I tried to read whatever I could find-it was…another side of literature to say the least. In comparison that is a beautiful poem.”

            “I was afraid it would shock you,”

            “I like it much more than the way such books like “Fanny Hill” describe amorous encounters.” She said with a tinge of haughty nature that reminded him not to underestimate her intelligence.

            “I am sure you are the first woman I have ever heard be so candid on this subject.” Adam huffed, but he was absolutely transfixed on her face-his fingers carefully combing the strands of her lose hair-brushing over the back of her neck, down over her maroon handkerchief which created modesty in the neckline of her bodice.

            “It is just science, and reproduction-all animals must, even flowers do…I see no reason to act ashamed.” Belle muttered-despite how fast she felt her heart pound at the nature of this-she’d never talked to anyone like this, about such forbidden topics. Of course she understood why to be ashamed-but talking to Adam was like being in an entirely different world that did not have the judgmental limits of her village.

            “I would say you are more flower than animal.” Adam muttered in a meek protest.

            “I understand there are additional reasonings-I understand the pleasurable means outside of the sole need for reproduction.”

            “Belle,” He was trying to sound casual with his laugh but it was difficult to contain his nerves from the ever growing tension in his body for her. “I would not insult you by assuming you anything less than a maiden...”

            “A maiden can still know her own self, and find understanding of the…body, in one’s self, and understanding of the want of pleasure in one’s self.” Belle muttered, feeling almost outside of herself and the sensations running through her. It was difficult to be as rational as she normally preferred. Instead it felt as though a heat was running over her face and through her chest as they continued this conversation. “Maybe I am the one being vulgar now-I’ve never spoken like this to anyone before.”

            “It would be nearly impossible for you to do something I found vulgar-you are speaking to a Beast after all.” He retorted, slipping the hand from her hair to cup her cheek. “As I said I appreciate your eccentricities-your education-I appreciate everything about you Belle.” This moment was surely out of his most forbidden and unconscious dreams, but he could not contain it was exhilarating and answering a need he did not realize he had been suppressing for her.

            “Then is it-would you find it vulgar-if I said I want to learn more?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and it felt like she had a fever from how warm her entire body was becoming.

            “Wh-what do you wish to know? The pursuit of knowledge is never a vulgar endeavor I would say…” He was struggling with control of his breath-her closeness was making his head spin, even that beautiful crimson on her face mixing with her droplet freckles. Even the vague question left the imagination to run wild.

            “What it is like…to know… what those sorts of described joys are like…as kindly as they were spoken of in your poem.” It was with all her willpower she kept her eyes upon his blue ones which stood out as the only thing in the darkness.

            “Oh I see…” He had to swallow to try and get a better control of his voice. “Well-well the body can, produce very-very strong sensations…are you fairing well? Your face is so warm. It has been a trying evening I would not wish you ill.” He murmured cautiously, trying to avoid frightening her with his own body’s whims. It would be wrong to look at a woman like her, and assume such looks on her face could be a kind of desire-especially when his form was this way. Fangs, horns, fur, it was surprising she laid this close but was not afraid. The night had been so hard on her already, and for a brief moment he was thankful to the enchantress. His younger self would lacked the self-consciousness to be aware of anything outside his own feelings.

            “I am not ill-my heart is just beating rather fast, and making me-quite warm.” Plucking his paw from her face she hugged it suddenly to her heart, it’s size was so great it spread over her entire neckline, and down across where he knew her breast expanded and fell beneath her bodice. In stunned silence they looked at one another a moment before Belle found her voice. “Do you mind if I remove my jacket then?”

            “Not at all” If she only knew.

            Releasing his hand she sat on her knees and shrugged off her beautifully embroidered (by none other than her sleeping wardrobe) coat sleeves. Then came her kerchief, and to his surprise she untied her blue stomacher. The lines of her form became blurred as she once more carefully reclined with now just her loose linen shift across her chest and arms. And in that moment he was indeed grateful she was not another aristocratic lady whom would be stuffed in stays, but instead was this eccentric working girl that much preferred to dress comfortably.

            “Is this-…all right? Not too immod-“

            “Not at all!” He could not stop himself from interrupting. “So long as you do not mind-I have-…my vision is not so affected by the darkness as yours.”

            “No…as long as you do not.” Belle felt herself nearly tremble as she reached out for his hand once again, and noticed it was quivering. “Is something wrong?”

            “You are…beautiful, and I have not ever felt this sort of need and restraint at the same moment.”

            “Oh, and here I thought you were a Zeus amongst women…”She tried to be mocking, but her own voice felt so lost right now within the breath it took to sustain the moment.

            “I confess I was a selfish lover with them…and now I am a creature that would not conjure a joint reaction in others-and…and I would surely knock the lights out of that man I was if he attempted such selfish behavior with you.”

            “I do not think your shape is incapable of that reaction in others.”

            “It is dark-“ Before he could finish she had leaned in, her forehead to his own.

            “I can see you…I prefer you…all the men who sought my attention have been horrid, they are so selfish, so prideful, so…so dreadful to me. I feel nothing but repulsion when I see them.” Her voice was now so determined.

            “Belle,” He could barely breathe, she was so close, in her movement she had placed his paw across her racing heart once again. With but the shift he could feel the outline of her breast, and stiff nipple which may as well have been a thorn for it brought a sudden alertness his body from how it pressed into his flesh.

            “When I see you I feel, I feel I can speak my mind-and comfort that whatever power you have is used-…in my benefit, and…not to be…some **pompous prat** about the village.” Her voice getting flustered on the alliteration. Adam managed a raspy laugh.

            “I sense some…anger there.”

            “Yes-I far prefer to know my own body with _my own_ efforts than ever let that _horrid_ Gaston touch me. You’re the first man I’ve ever had this close”

            “I’m…honored.” His chest was nearly heaving, arousal was prevalent in his trousers now-but he found it possible to ignore due to how enchanted he was by her expression.

            “You’re the first man I’ve…I’ve ever _wanted_ to be touched by, and perhaps that is because you are the only man who would never touch me unless I so explicitly invited it.”

            “You’re the first woman I’ve ever desired for not just for my own benefit.”

            “Then touch me.” Came her whisper, and it was somehow the most erotic thing he had ever heard in his life. With the invitation, and her small hands still pressing his own into her breast, he allowed himself to truly feel her. With their difference in size he could have perhaps captured each of her breasts underneath one paw-but Adam had no intention to risk scratching her trusting body. With the tenderness of lifting a sparrow egg, he cupped her breast-and purposefully allowed his thumb to trace the outline of her nipple. Belle bit her lip a moment as the sensation was amplified by another’s touch far more than her own could ever be. Was this really happening?

            “This way?” Adam whispered.

            “Yes,” Belle nodded, her face still so close to his own. For a moment her eyes fluttered open and closed from his gentle exploration of her.

            “I-this-…” He couldn’t find words to describe everything in his mind. “Tell me what you enjoy…” His other hand was running through her hair once again.

            “I…I feel the intense urge to caress myself…in a more-…more unmentionable,” All of this was making her head spin, and finding words was an undertaking.

            “You needn’t restrain on my behalf.” It was enough, and reaching beneath her skirts, she found the slit of her bloomers. Never before had desire overwhelmed her in this way for her fingers were met with an overflow of warm fluid signaling excitement-something she normally had to rub forth before it started to appear. The desire almost hurt, and it was with a fury that her fingers sought out the pleasurable nub of anatomy (the scientific name lost in her frenzied mind) hidden within the curly hair. It brought forth a sharp gasp of relief and Adam was sure he’d never witnessed something so majestic. He too was breathing heavily, amazed that watching a woman’s pleasure was somehow just as incredible as feeling his own. “My God I appreciate your eccentricities…” It took almost everything in himself to not reach forth and join her in self-relief.

            “Would it be too far to-to ask you to touch me here too?” Belle panted.

            “It would be an answer to a prayer.” Adam reassured, cupping her flushed cheek so that the intention in his eyes could not be missed. There was no need to give her further permission or guidance. Taking his hand from her breast, both nipples now painfully sensitive and jutting forth from her shift, she brought it underneath all of the fabric to the warm area between her thighs. There was a tender pause as it was clear her body registered the sensation of another person feeling the most private area possible. But those blue eyes of his keeping her mind present, the experience was not frightening but thrilling-then delightfully warm. Once again his paw was able to easily cover the whole of her. Adam could smell the musky arousal which was now running across the fur of his fingers. At the forefront of his mind was caution though-there would be time to revel in this later-but for now he would not allow his claws to scratch her so sensitive area. So he waited, until she was ready and guided brunt of his palm to rub throbbing piece of her. The fur tickled in wonderful ways through her sensitive crevasses, the pads across each paw were just rough enough to create incredible friction wherever they brushed. Belle let forth a whimper and her free hand took hold of Adam’s shirt, twisting it within her fist.

            “Tell me…if it becomes, too much.” Adam could barely find words-his mind was filled with hazy fog. One of the most prominent thoughts was wishing he’d actually _listened_ all those times Lumiere had attempted to school him in the ‘art’ of pleasing women. But he’d hardly cared-his previous experiences had been solely about getting to the deed for his pleasure-and if the lady so enjoyed herself along the way-well that was a surplus benefit. Between his desire and nerves, he was relieved he knew enough that _this_ was a very delicate area of a woman-and it could be far too easy to cause inadvertent injury.

            “It’s-it’s _wonderful”_ Belle moaned, and he could have sworn he was heaven the sound was so divine. “Please continue, please-”

            “You needn’t worry, I’ll bring you off if you allow me,” The warmth of their excited breaths were mingling-even more exaggerated in the heat of the enclosed bed.

            “Yes-yes,” Belle nodded, consented, and gasped at same time. It was clear her crisis was growing nearer as he felt her hips return the motion of his hand against her. Her own hand atop his was no longer guiding but simply squeezing him for support. “Oh-God,” Belle practically whimpered, and he did all he could to obey exactly what her hips commanded until suddenly he felt her shudder. The last sight of her face he had, was as she bit her lip utterly flushed. Then her head fell aside into his shoulder-and her fist yanked forth at his shirt. Then…she became soft, her fingers loosening, the tension spilling out of her all her limbs. Except the hand beneath her skirts, which kept a weak hold upon his own as if it were the only thing that could keep her anchored from floating out of this world.

* * *

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Poem recited by Adam is "To His Mistress Going to Bed" by John Donne written in 1633. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading chapter 1 :)! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed what was basically my need to give Belle and Beast!Adam the spotlight their romance deserves. That, and a wish to make my own adult version of the 2017 film (although I recommend going to see "The Shape of Water" which is very much an adult BATB tale). More to come-I appreciate feedback!
> 
> If you'd like to show your support or for more notes & updates on my writing, art, and fantasy inspirations check out my tumblr: 
> 
> http://senoraluna.tumblr.com/


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the incredibly kind feedback on chapter I. I've made a few edits to it, just a few spelling fixes, and added sentences for better context. I'm still learning the formatting with AO3 so I apologize for any weird formatting in this chapter!

“Oh and here I thought they were making such progress!” Beatrice Potts sighed, the tea within her now gone cold. The painted lines which made her face on the exterior of the kettle were knitted in worry. Tea had been missed entirely-but that wasn’t the issue which had caused the managers of the house staffs to gather in the kitchen. It was when Plumette, (who of them all, had retained most of her human grace as an elegant peacock feather duster) had flown in with great distress, having heard from one of the other maids an unfortunate scene was overheard in the library. Yvette reported to the head maid, how she had overheard “that poor girl” in “great sobs” after all had known she and the Master had disappeared for the last few hours-presumably together. The cause was undetermined, and that was the issue the group had gathered to unravel.

            “Now calm down, calm down,” Henri Cogsworth huffed, as an enchanted clock the tick of his hands had just added to his persnickety way of speaking. “The girl may have simply been missing her family or, some other sentimental female issue-such as a sad book-“

            “A sad _book_ mon amie imbecile?” Guillaume Lumiere interjected folding his metallic little arms as he gave a judgmental look to the ridged clock. If anyone’s personality shown through the curse it was his. Even as a candelabra the man remained overly optimistic, theatrical, and sarcastic. “This is the same girl who tried to jump out the window and ran after wolves, a _book_ would not leave her in hysterics.”

            “Oui oui that is my concern.” Plumette Babineaux rested on the kitchen table like the others, and she waved a wing to stress the importance which the men were too obtuse to notice “If something has finally happened to plunge her in such despair-she may leave again! And this time I do not think anything the Master does would convince her to return.”

            “But she seemed so happy of late-hadn’t you seen her bustling around the kitchen-and the two of them always together! Always chattering excitedly.” Once more the Beatrice lamented and tried her best to understand what their Adam could have suddenly done which was so obnoxious to undo all their-and even his, work. True she could imagine plenty things-but she was so sure he’d out-grown them all!

            “I know I know,” Plumette sighed, “And she seemed to be taking such pleasure in restoring the castle. It was almost like having a Madame of the house.” Besides her fear of having the curse never lifted-the idea of losing a woman’s touch in the estate was even more disheartening.

            “Oh I think you’re all jumping to conclusions,” Cogsworth interjected “a few tears doesn’t mean she’s running off, it just means she’s being an emotional wo-“

            “Oui oui-“ Lumiere cut Cogsworth off with a much too close wave of a flame in his clock face.

            “-Be carefu-!” Cogsworth stammered.

            “-As Cogsworth is saying, our Mademoiselle Belle is far more durable and loyal than we are giving her credit for. Now Chapeau has been by the door all evening and not seen her flee again, so we can only safely assume she is now fast asleep and simply was not in the humor for evening tea-tears or no tears. And people are always more cheerful after a good night’s sleep.” The group looked at one another debating this possibility-wondering if they could accept it, or was it just false hope.

            “Oui Lumiere is right,” Plumette agreed, and nodded to Beatrice to sooth her worries. Cogsworth let out another haughty grumble.

            “There we are, matter solved, now can we all get back to our schedules before morning co-“

            “Yes we’ll make certain the coming morning is so charming-“ Lumiere interrupted once more, “ that whatever so bothered her leaves her mind. See to it her morning breakfast is the most splendid she has ever had-and see if one of those garden statues can find some flowers outside for her tray, and-“

            “It is not that simple Lumiere,” Plumette tsked. “If she really was hurt the finest croissants and tea will not remedy such-it will take an apology from the Master. You must speak to him.”

            “Oh I’ll give him a fine piece of my temper if it’s really his behavior that caused all this,” Beatrice added.

            “There we have it, I will join the serving of the Master’s breakfast tomorrow and determine what he has done.”

            “But you’re the bouteiller! It would be inappropriate for you to serve breakfast.” Cogsworth interjected immediately.

            “And I have served as maître d’ before-and mon amie _I am a candelabra_ I do not think it really matters if I serve breakfast or do the laundry, or sit in the throne at this point.” Lumerie replied flippantly an icy edge to his words. Cogsworth, if he could only show it, would have been red from how flustering every point of that statement was. Plumette let a giggle slip out, then stifled it after a glare from Cogsworth.

            “He has a point Henri.” Beatrice chided. “What will all this order and effort on our part mean if we do not manage to break this curse. And this sweet girl has already endured so much, and is trying so hard to find a means to break the curse-it only makes sense we should do everything in our power to assist her.” Over the last few months, much like Madame Garderobe she had begun to feel a motherly instinct for Belle which extended beyond breaking the curse.

            “Oui oui, it would be monstrous, (and stupid), for us to not do our part in keeping this romance blossoming. If you are so worried you can join me _Henri.”_ Lumiere said mockingly, knowing how the man loathed any sort of lapse in decorum.

            Cogsworth let out a grumble of annoyance, however he had scolded Lumiere at least (and he had counted) a hundred times about proper titles that he had long given up. That, and the part of himself he so often tried to keep stifled, struggled remaining angry at Lumiere in particular when it came to these eccentric and uncouth ideas. That was what finally lead to him let out a defeated:

            “Fine. We’ll get to the bottom of this then. Now I think we’ve all gone on about this long enough can we _please_ return to our rightful duties before the Master wakes up to an unprepared house?”

            “Oh Mousier Cogsworth, my staff has already cleaned the dinning room and dusted the halls,” Plumette sighed with a hint of aggravation. “But if you are so insistent-“

            “-I am Mademoiselle.”

            “Then I will check again.” Plumette gave a last glance to Lumiere who offered her a sympathetic smile, then fluttered out of the room.

            “Well if this is all said and done, I’m going to bed myself,” Beatrice sighed, finally feeling more relived about the situation. “I expect you both to give him a stern talking to-do not let him be a brute to that girl or I’ll chew the ears off every one of you.”

           “Beatrice, do you really believe I would be afraid to be stern to Adam?” Lumiere nearly laughed at the suggestion.

           “I wasn’t worried about you,” She replied shooting a look at Cogsworth who once again huffed.

          “I assure you I can complete my duties _without_ behaving completely uncivilized. Unlike like some members of this household.” Was the man’s haughty reply. The expression on the tea pot did not appear convinced, and after years as knick-knacks they could all read one another as well as if they were human.

          “Bonsoir,” Lumiere called cheerily to the woman, then hopped off the table himself as Cogsworth scurried to follow. “A _book,_ bah! Cogsworth you are constantly underestimating this girl. I am surprised she has not winded you shut you can be so disrespectful to women.”

          “I give women credit where the credit is due,” he huffed in reply, “Now, Lumiere what exactly do you expect to say to the Master? If I recall he did not appreciate whenever you attempted to interfere in his affairs with women.”

          “Oui, but back then we all were men, and now I am a god-damn candelabra must I keep repeating mon amie? I think matters have changed enough this is not a time to think about formalities or previous situations-especially because I do not want to be a candelabra forever!” He waved his arms in a mixture of excitement, and clear sarcastic jolly from how truly exasperated he was inside.

         “Oh what are you getting so stressed about, you were the one just saying there is no reason to panic.” Cogsworth attempted to smooth over the situation.

        “Because-“ Lumiere’s brightness dimmed for once to a more solemn smile he would only show to a few. “because I somehow feel this really is our _last_ chance. And if our dear, little, _stupid, stubborn, impulsive,_ Adam has suddenly ruined all these months work…” He trailed off seeming too flustered by the thought to go on. Cogsworth hated these moments more than anything. He already hated how much he was compelled to let this man get away with murder in what should be his prim house. He hated how flippant Lumiere could be in every situation. But most of all, he hated when all of that mirth and showmanship fell away to present a despairing man, whom he wanted so desperately to assist.

        “Well…now chin up let’s be logical on all this.” He was horrid at sympathy, so his wife had always reminded him, “If she is as hardy and fearless a girl as we all believe-then truly if the Master had ruined things beyond repair she would have been out the door once more-oui?” This was what made them so efficient at managing a massive house together. Obviously Lumiere was the charisma, everyone wanted to work for him and he could convince anyone to do almost anything, but it was Cogsworth at the end of the day who could come up with the cleaver solutions and logical answers to the most difficult of situations.

      “Cogsworth…” Lumiere began waving a metallic hand excitedly as his smile spread once more. “When you are right-you are right! There is no reason for all this worry and sorrow-we are going to school our dear little _gosse_ , he will apologize, she will accept-the day will move on. If she were a girl to hold a grudge she would have fled far earlier for how he treated her Father.”

     “Right-exactly. So then, how exactly do you plan to approach this conversation without getting thrown off the balcony?”

 

       Adam was sure he was hallucinating. Nothing felt real, it was as if he had been whisked away to the fairy land of myth. Time wasn’t real, nor were sensations, and even the most impossible dreams could suddenly take physical shape. That was the only explanation his still over-stimulated mind could conclude for his present situation. Belle, her forehead buried in his shoulder, laid parallel to him. In _her_ bed. One of her hands lazily rested against his speedily rising chest-the other (the part that truly confirmed this was a situation of fantasy) was atop his own, holding it against her most private crevice between her legs. He dared not speak, or it would surely rip him out of what must be his own perverted fantasy back to his own lonely bed.

     It was the sound of little groan from Belle though that slowly brought him back to reality. Turning to face her he wondered if she would be outraged how the situation had escaladed-and to his outrage, he found her asleep. Here he was spinning in his own worries and fantasies and she had fallen _asleep!_ Momentarily he was offended the situation had been so passing for her that she was sleeping soundly-but as reality and his full senses returned he recalled how trying of an evening this had been for her. A relieved half smile came to his face which dissipated the majority of his body’s tension and mind’s swirling questions. Those could be taken care of at a later time.

      Enough of his rational mind had returned that he knew well enough it was best to exit now. They had been lucky enough Madame Garderobe had not awoken, curtains or no curtains. There would be no end to it for the next damn _century_ of this curse if she were to catch them in this state. Then again, the woman was from Venice, they tended to be much more liberal…now was not the time for such thoughts! Oh so carefully not to disturb her, Adam withdrew his paw from beneath Belle’s skirts and shifted his weight from the bed as slowly as possible. His anxiety didn’t offer the slightest break until he was safely returned to the West Wing, by some miracle unspotted, and locked within his own chambers.

      Slowly, Adam sank onto his bed which he had begun to use once again since recovering from his wounds. What had he _done?_ He had taken advantage of the girl’s grief-this far too innocent and pure girl. It hadn’t even occurred to him he was harboring this sort of feeling for her-of course he’d come to appreciate her, to admire her, and since this morning found he could even really empathize with her. But _this_ just felt overwhelmingly shameful the fact he had allowed this to go on. A petulant part of himself protested to this shame, hadn’t she been the one to encourage the poem, and beg him to stay? Yes, answered the more mature piece, but he was the expert in this area. He was the senior, and one with all their senses who had not just unraveled his mother’s death.

      Adam flopped back upon his massive bed (which was thankfully sturdy enough to endure his weight as a great beast) wondering where he would begin to untangle this mess. There was no skirting around it-and if he was going to remember he was a _prince_ after all, he was going to have to face this situation with dignity. With a groan he brought his paws to his forehead, rubbing it as a headache came on. However the strong smell on his hand made them recoil instantly. There was his proof this was not some bizarre dream, his fur was matted together from the liquids which had come from Belle’s private charms of all places. Overwhelmingly flustered he quickly strode across the room to the water basin and plunged his hand in to erase all evidence. He hadn’t done something like this since he was an adolescent-that was how the entire encounter felt. Two inexperienced people, tentatively testing their limits and sensations with one another’s assistance. His former self would hesitate to even call it a sexual encounter, in fact he would have called it a “disappointment” for nothing happened which involved his own pleasure. Yet…

     The more he recollected on what had happened, the more he struggled to regulate the arousal in his body. He wasn’t some virgin boy, why would a woman’s coming off be so erotic-he hadn’t even seen any nudity! That, and Belle had somehow assumed this default image of a virginial saint in his mind during their time together. Perhaps in his desire-to avoid any sort of _that desire_ for her, he’d distanced the possibility as much as he could. Yet…somehow they still ended up here. Perhaps if he’d been more conscious of his stifled feelings for her, then he would have been able to prevent this occurrence. Paws now dripping with water he returned to his bed with a crash.

      Come tomorrow he would apologize for this situation and they would put the whole bizarre night behind them. Hopefully Belle would not have climbed out of the window by then. It dawned on him how frightening that idea had become-not even in perspective of the curse, but simply the idea of losing her conversation, her presence in this dark dusty castle. It began to weigh on him miserably. As his eyelids began to flutter closed from the trying day, he realized now was not the time for such thoughts.

     Adam was adorned in his best frock suddenly, seated atop the grand throne in the ballroom. There were many beautiful men and women dancing throughout the room as a lively concerto played in the background, accompanied by the voice of a talented tenor. The price’s painted eyes were scanning the room over each lovely patron who had come solely for his enjoyment. He drummed his well trimmed nails against the armrest of his throne, recognizing something was strange about his hands, but he was unable to remember why. And truth be told, he didn’t really care right now. Enough champagne had been enjoyed at this point that he was busy eyeing the crowd to see which lucky guest would receive a private night with him.

       “And who is that?” Adam gestured to a beautiful tanned woman in a lovely ivory gown who smiled at Adam as her dance past the direction of his gaze.

      “Ahem Mademoiselle Josephine…you entertained her last month-she was the one who’s Father threw the fit, I… advise against it.” Lumiere replied drolly, a mixture of a bemusement and condescension in his tone as he spoke to the prince. Adam looked over and could have sworn there was fire in the man’s eyes.

    “Ah yes, the one who was going on about marriage-amazing how a few jewels can change any man’s mind. Mark me Lumiere the greatest criminal in France is one with a generous hand and vault of diamonds.” Even as he laughed at the situation Adam felt a strange queasiness in his stomach. “What about him?” Adam gestured his head to a well dressed man who was smiling brightly to each woman he turned on the floor.

    “Mousier Jacque-he is married.”

    “That never stopped me before.” Adam chuckled and nearly bounced to his feet from the chair ignoring the feeling in his stomach. “This will be impressive Lumiere, watch-“ As Adam descended the steps he saw her. Seated away from the dance on the outer perimeter of the ballroom, looking uncomfortable in her ornate ivory ball gown, sat Belle. She was the only woman who hadn’t bothered to dress her hair and face, making her appear even more out of place.

     Adam was compelled, what on earth was Belle doing here? Suddenly he didn’t want any of the dozens of beauties before him, he could only focus on how much he wanted Belle. Her body, his bed, now. Marching across the room he began to push past the many dancers who had frustratingly gone still as statues, slowing his path to Belle. He was going to remove that dress like she were a parcel in packing paper. Rose petals fell from the ceiling like a first snow fall, and Adam furiously swatted them from his line of vision. The only thing that occupied his mind was finally seeing the color of those nipples which had been hidden by her shift. When he escaped the crowded dance floor the tile had become coated in crimson. The same color he longed to see across her entire bare body.

     “Belle,” He smirked. “You should have done your hair, it would have made you far more beautiful.”

     “I’m not concerned about that.” Belle said dismissively remaining seated, and picking up a book as she began to read.

     “Well why don’t you join me in my chamber and we’ll have a private discussion about whatever you like.” Adam went on, convinced he would have this girl in his bed within the next ten minutes. All he could think of was what the body beneath that gown must have feel like.

    “No thank you.” Came Belle’s cool response, her eyes not moving from the book. How dare she, who did she think she spoke to.

    “I am offering you the greatest honors!”

    “You’re such a child.” Belle’s tone cut forth, and she instantly slammed shut her book. The echo resounded through the ball room, as it seemed they were suddenly alone in it. When her eyes looked up at him he suddenly felt his stomach twist in even more discomfort.

            “How dare you speak to me that way!”

            “I’ll speak to you like the animal you are.” She snarled, and a twinge of panic filled the prince. This was all going wrong-something wasn’t right. She didn’t understand, and yet it felt like someone screaming at him-but the concerto was too loud to hear what they were saying.

            “You are clearly misunderstanding, Belle, I’ll show you-“ Adam suddenly seized her arm, and was met with a rush of blood. The manicured hand which had been drumming his throne was gone-instead he had massive claws. Blood was running down Belle’s arm from where he had pierced her flesh, splattering across the rose petal floor. Horrified Adam tried to release her-but found the claw of his paw caught within her fragile flesh. “No-no this wasn’t what I meant!”

            “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!” Bellowed another voice, a great beast’s voice from behind the young man. He was too afraid to turn around-he was frantically trying to keep Belle upright-but the Beast was coming-he was enraged, the red was everywhere, drowning them all.

            “Bonjour!” Lumiere’s annoyingly energetic voice had never been so welcomed as it ripped Adam out of the horrible nightmare. The Beast looked down immediately, intensely relieved to see each paw did not have any signs of blood upon it. Quickly his eyes darted around in a panic, for any semblances of a wounded Belle or deteriorating party. All to be found in the room, to his dismay, was the familiar wheeled tray which brought his breakfast, and unfamiliarly his bouteiller and majordomo upon it. Adam let out a groan.

            “I imagine the replacement of Ambrose and Fabrice with you two,” he muttered it like an insult, “is indication I’m about to be lectured.”

            “Now Master, we simply came out of concern, after all it is nearly 11:00, quite a late hour to be sleeping until-“ Cogsworth began pacifyingly.

            “And we grew impatient after knocking at seven, eight, and nine receiving no response.” Lumiere derailed hopping off the tray to the bed. “And what is this-sleeping in your house coat? Hm I sense something did not go well last evening.” Adam struggled to keep his composure-dread filling him. _Had_ Madame Garderobe seen something? Did the whole castle know? How much did they know? Thank goodness they could not see him blush as he sat up waving Lumiere back dismissively.

            “Is what I wear to sleep such a concern to you now Lumiere? Would you like to steal Ambrose’s position and become my valet?” Adam snapped.

            “ _What does it matter when we are all trinkets incapable of using pay…”_ Lumiere murmured under his breath and Adam’s ears perked reminding him of their sensitive hearing.

            “What was that?” He growled.

            “Adam! Adam! We are here out of concern for you.” Lumiere redirected.

            “I agree Master!” Cogsworth added quickly. “I want you to know I informed him what a breach of order this was-“

            “ **Why** are you both here?” Came a demanding snarl from Adam which encouraged both men to get to the point. It was obvious he was in one of his moods.

            “What Lumiere is trying to say,” Cogsworth began astutely. “Is we are well aware of what transpired last evening, and we are here to make sure it does not happen again.” And Cogsworth was immediately relieved Adam had not yet touched his tea, for the man made a sound almost like choking on his inhale. The alarm in his eyes must have been present as Lumiere jumped in.

          “Oui, and we are just here to try and unravel what you must have been thinking to do so something so foolish.” The sarcasm was unavoidable in his tone.

         “This-this is an entirely personal matter!” Adam sputtered. How far had he truly sank, he was embarrassed about what was not even a full act of sexual consummation in front of the two men whom had been like second Fathers-or perhaps more appropriately, discerning, awkward Uncles.

        “My boy, it stops being personal when it affects the rest of the household.” Cogsworth tutted.

        “How does this affect the household other than Belle and I!”

        “Because if you upset her, she is never going to break the curse! She will loathe you, run away, and this state of being becomes forever!” Lumiere reminded him sternly, whacking Adam’s arm with his metallic holster of a hand. True, even if he had tried to hurt him it would have been barely a pinch to the muscular form his master had become. But this information gave Adam pause-Belle was upset? This was even worse than he’d imagined. Upset enough she was talking to the staff about it. To both of the older men’s surprise, Adam went silent appearing reflective. It went on for over a minute, bringing Lumiere and Cogsworth to exchange glances. Cogsworth pointed at his clock face stressing to Lumiere the amount of time passing in awkward silence. Lumiere returned it with an indifferent shrug. Cogsworth furiously waved his little arms encouraging the cheeky bastard to say _something._ This had been his idea after all. Lumiere however was content to let Adam sit in his own mess for a moment to fully understand the affects of his temper. Reluctantly Cogsworth jumped in.

       “Now-now Master, Lumiere is being a little melodramatic-as you know him to be, a few tears does not mean she loathes you now.”

       “She was in tears?” Adam repeated still stunned. He should jump off the balcony now. How could he have taken advantage of what was probably the only earnest friend he’d ever had in his life?

       “Err-well that is what Yvette heard in the library-you mean you weren’t there?” Cogsworth felt the pit of his stomach fall-perhaps this had all been a misunderstanding. When he said this though Adam seemed to revive-exasperation spilling over his features as he rubbed a grand paw over his temples.

      “The library…you all heard her weeping in the library last evening…” Thinking out loud Adam grumbled.

      “Oui, and we know she is not a girl easily moved to tears Adam.” Lumiere said pointedly. “So what had her weeping?”

      “Well much to the dismay of your desires to chastise me, I didn’t lose my temper at her.” Adam snapped. “She was-…she was grieving. Over her Mother.” Once again the room was silent, Adam was now the one with a look of superiority and frustration at the others.

            “And are you so certain…it was not anything else which led to her weeping?” Came a much more tactfully and tentatively posed question from Lumiere.

            “We were talking about our Mothers, that was all.” Adam said sharply. Their expressions were as though he had just divulged what happened in the bed last evening.

            “You talked about your Mother with her…” Lumiere repeated as though he had misheard.

            “I see, was there an excessive amount of wine involved in this library evening?” Cogsworth proposed.

            “Oui Lumiere, and No Cogsworth.” Came the low growl of Adam’s tone. “Now are there any other foolish remarks or questions?”

            “Well-Ma-master.” Cogsworth tried desperately to back peddle. “I for one never believed you would make a mistake this late in the chase when you have come so far to possibly earning the girl’s love.” Adam felt sickened by the words. He stood impatiently distancing himself from the two over to the balcony. Once breathing some of the cool winter air to clear his head, he stared at the carefully at the encased Rose upon his balcony. Lumiere and Cogsworth again traded confused glances as they scurried to follow their Master’s massive strides across the room. Tracing a claw over the glass case which housed the enchanted rose, Adam found himself more focused on it than he’d been in years. Words came to mind which he had used to repeat in a frenzy during the first years of the curse searching for an answer:

“ O’ thee who lack eyes of heart

I bestow upon a crimson art

Replacing thine hollow chamber

Till thee find the heart of stranger

Bystanders to this wicked deed

Inanimate for thine lack of heed

Frozen be the land and years

Unbeknowest to all thine peers

Once the last red pulse does fade

Then lay rust, dust, in thine grave”

               Both Cogsworth and Lumiere had gone still as Adam finished murmuring the words of the curse as though in a trance. If they had skin, they would have each been pale with brief anxiety, but instead it was evident how the flames on the ends of Lumiere dimmed almost entirely out-and Cogsworth’s ticking hand slowed for a moment to a near stop. Nearly every member of the castle had almost gone insane trying to decipher that curse during the first years of their enchantment. It finally reached a point of frenzy that Cogsworth had declared it was not to be repeated without his (or the Master’s, he added reluctantly) permission. Such was why it was now stopping the pair in their tracks to hear Adam murmuring it out loud once again. To each of their surprises something even more shocking happened next.

              “I’m sorry,” Adam sighed turning away from the rose. “I know we established rules about this.”

              “Master…are you ill?” Lumiere managed to croak out. “Cogsworth don’t just stand there fetch Mrs.Potts.” It was harder to know which was stranger, the curse or the apology which hadn’t required extraction like a rotten tooth.

            “God Damn it I am not ill!” Adam snapped, and this reassured both of them. “I just-I don’t know, I found myself wondering if perhaps we misunderstood part of the curse.”

            “Prince Adam,” Cogsworth was now the one startling the room for one of the very rare times he dared to speak the Prince’s name. “I must remind you, it is that train of thought which drove you-everyone, to near madness…when we start questioning the meaning once again.” The older man’s tone was much more considerate than usual. “The points we reached have proved the most plausible and we have found evidence of.” Adam swallowed hard and stalked back across the room, away from the damned flower, then he once more took a seat on the bed. Of course Cogsworth was right, there was no point in bringing up something which they had easily investigated over a hundred times. Perhaps his shame for what had transpired with Belle was truly causing him to punish himself.

            “If your curiosities are solved and you’re searching for evidence I did not offend Belle, you can ask her yourself about the library. Now can I breakfast in peace?” Adam grumbled, he had much more to sort through in his mind than entertaining their concerns.

            “Yes, well, everything seems to be in order then.” Cogsworth returned to his former formality. Lumiere hopped on the rolling tray once again. Jumping onto the pitcher of milk he was closer to eye level with his Master. Adam scowled reclining away from the look, Lumiere always had a way of detecting when he’d been involved in any sort of sexual escapade. Such was how the man had become his reluctant confident in matters of sneaking out bed fellows in the morning to avoid scandal, or keeping track of Adam’s long list of partners. How the hell could he be staring him down the same way-he hadn’t done anything to reveal himself had he? Damn that perceptive man!

            “So then, there is nothing else we should know-hm? Are you absolutely certain Master eh?”

            “Get out.” Adam huffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thankful for all the kind comments, kudos, and views on this work! It's been so encouraging this writing can be as uplifting to others as it is for me when I'm especially feeling down. 
> 
> So sad I couldn't have more Belle in this chapter! But there were a lot of other introductions to be made. She'll be back in our next installment. I'll try to be sure to update weekly! 
> 
> As always, I appreciate all kudos, views, and especially comments! Your feedback is so motivating and heart-warming. I felt this story was important to explore deeper and I'm glad others are agreeing!
> 
> If you'd like to show your support or for more notes & updates on my writing, art, and fantasy inspirations check out my tumblr: 
> 
> http://senoraluna.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter III

 

Sunlight was streaming through the cracks of curtains along the bed canopy. They created warm lines of light across Belle’s back and shoulder, which eased her to wake. Rolling to her back, she began to find her limbs once again, stretching her arms, legs, then lifting her hands to rub the crust of sleep from her eyes. Something felt off, she looked down realizing she had only half undressed for bed, her skirts and boots still on. Then it all came rushing to her like an unexpected wave during an idle wade in low tide. She sat up right with the precision of a spring-loaded mechanic, and looked about the bed frantically.

Alone. The only thing here was her discarded jacket, handkerchief, and stomacher in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the bed.

“Oh mon etoiles,” Belle whispered bringing her hands to her mouth. _He_ had been in her bed last evening. _She_ had invited him-then asked him to stay-then…! It felt as though her entire face was hot, so hot she could melt away into a puddle, which as illogical as it was, she wished could happen. Belle curled up against her head board and squeezed a pillow wondering if she would surely die of embarrassment in that moment. “Oh Belle you imbécile…” Talking to herself was a habit, or the chickens, or Phillipe, there often wasn’t much choice. It was how she tended to work out equations when her father was not around, and it was not as if she could go to her only friend Pere Robert with every single one of her problems or questions.

“The townspeople are finally right! Funny, peculiar, strange, Belle, has finally taken all her bizarre behavior to the point of offense.” She grumbled collapsing her face into the pillow. This was why she preferred her much more solitary life with her Father, with her books, she couldn’t accidently stumble into some sinful conversation and then slutish behavior based on her own curiosity. And poor Beast-no-…Adam, that brief thought brought a tiny smile to her face. He finally had a name, Adam, the rest of the formal title didn’t matter much (although it would be worth musing over later) to her as just knowing him so personally he was now Adam. For the first time in her life she really had a friend who wanted to discuss travel, literature, and so much more with her. So much more, and perhaps too much…oh no Adam.

What must he think of her now? What had this castle done to her that she somehow thought inviting him to her bed was appropriate-taking the conversation to where it had-asking him to do what he had done?! Even worse her mind fluttered to her Papa, she was supposed to be here helping the inhabitants of this curse before going home to him-not defiling the parts of herself he’d always warned her to protect. The shame grew so much it tested her preconceived notions that it was truly impossible to melt into the bed.

“Poppet? Are you awake in that cave?” Beatrice’s voice penetrated the curtain fortress. Reluctantly Belle lifted her head from the pillow taking in a deep breath. She had managed far more awkward and embarrassing situations in her life before, such as when the villagers bullied her, or followed her just to gossip. She proudly never shed a tear nor let it seem to affect her. ‘I can handle this’, she reassured herself. And so, she set aside her pillow and drew back the curtain.

“Oui, Bonjour,” Belle did her best to give a smile to Mrs.Potts as she pulled herself to sit on the edge of her bed. By some miracle, Madame Garderobe was _still_ asleep. At least she could cross that overwhelming anxiety off her list

“Oh no lamb, were you ill? You’ve been sleeping in your boots!” Exclaimed Beatrice in the kindest, and most purely concerned tone. It brought only further shame to Belle. Dropping her eyes in embarrassment Belle bent over to quickly undo her laces.

“I, I was a little under the weather last evening…I must have fallen asleep without realizing it.” That wasn’t a complete lie was it? It felt even worse to lie to the woman who had done nothing but try and make her time here a pleasant one.

“We heard my dear…” Beatrice added gently, and Belle looked away nervously. “Won’t you have some tea then? See if you can stomach some jam and toast as well.” As if by command Belle picked up which was thankfully a non-sentient tea cup (to her relief the young Chip was not present. Her embarrassment would have only amplified in front of the child) and took a long warm gulp of tea. It did indeed help her nerves as she wondered which part of the evening was being referred to.

“Merci…” Belle muttered putting a piece of toast in her mouth to avoid talking.

“Would you like to tell us what had you in tears then? You needn’t refrain if it was the Master, we all know he can be horrible-and I want to assure you that-is-not-you-fault! He’s been alone with just us for so long-well I know it’s no excuse, but my point being, he has no right to raise his voice at you.” Belle almost choked on her toast as she answered quickly in a cough.

“Omhn-mno! I mean, no-no he didn’t, no he did not upset me.” She managed to swallow the bite before going on. “He’s been the perfect gentlem-well no, he is still himself, as you know that would be an over exaggeration, but he hasn’t done anything to raise his voice or be cantankerous since that evening with the wolves.” Belle took another bite as Beatrice continued to stare her down as if aware she were hiding something.

“Poppet, I want you to know, I had a hand in bringing that man up and I consider it my responsibility if he is being a horrid boy. We all have a hard lot in life, his situation doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.” This statement brought a warm smile to Belle’s face, it was strange to have so many people interested in defending her. Slowly she shook her head.

“Honestly, Adam did nothing but help me in every way I asked.” Again-technically not a lie.

“Adam? Oh my, so he’s finally letting people call him by his name again?” Beatrice seemed to light up-and to Belle’s relief was distracted. Belle gave an encouraging nod and took another bite to avoid saying more. “Oh my dear if you only knew…when this whole _thing_ took effect, well after awhile he just became so melancholy-he wouldn’t let _any_ of us call him that for awhile. All this nonsense about being a beast-why you don’t hear me demanding to be called ‘Madame Kettle’ do you?” Belle chewed a little more slowly, intrigued by this information that such a prideful man had been so self-conscious. “Anyhow I’ve known that boy since he was in swaddling cloth I wasn’t about to do that-and Lumiere-well you know Lumiere by now, he wasn’t going to have any of that nonsense either. So eventually he learnt-and right so-that forcing us to call him anything so silly wasn’t going to work!”

“He’s very lucky to have you, especially your optimism in light of this wicked curse.” Belle responded.

            “Oh if you only knew,” Beatrice seemed very encouraged now, especially in her relief that Adam had not been as horrible as she feared. “He was quite positive in the beginning. And wasn’t about to let anything stop him from changing everything back.” The way the woman went on it seemed she was reflecting on Adam’s bravery, but Belle couldn’t help but half-smirk thinking it was much more an act of pride based on how he described his former self. Belle waited for her to elaborate, but as was pattern she had come to notice, whenever any member of the castle would mention the enchantment it was brief, vague, and quickly moved on from. “So then poppet, what did have you so upset-not that anyone is looking on you like some hysterical woman,” She reassured. “We all know you’re a strong one, of the best constitution, which is why we were so worried.”

            “Oh…goodness, I really was overexaggerating.” Belle began, despite the reassurance the red of embarrassment rushing to her cheeks. Something in her would have rather been caught and being questioned about her actions in bed with Adam, than weeping so noticeably, and apparently loudly. She shifted on the edge of the bed, averting her eyes downward to the ring on her pinky finger as she exhaled heavily. “It was probably overstimulation from womanly courses-“

            “Now come now.” Beatrice urged the enchanted cart up to the edge of Belle’s bedside. “I hope you don’t think me such a ninny that I would believe such a simple tale.” The woman found herself in want of the appendages she had been missing for years. If only she could put a hand on upon the girl’s to reassure her. “I’ve known you a good time now my dear, and know you’re not a fan of tears but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with them. You don’t always have to resist all of your emotions, I know being here is difficult, but we want you to know you don’t have to suffer alone.” The words were so kind Belle wanted to melt once again. It was frightening how much she adored this feeling of having someone care for her like the mother she never had. Mother, and again, to her aggravation she felt tears welling up.

            “Dear me,” Belle muttered softly in aggravation as she vainly tried to smother away the tears. “It seems I really am coming undone.”

            “Now there is nothing wrong with that my child.” The encouragement, all this support was becoming too much for her heart to handle. Finally it all spilled out, Belle described how Adam had brought forth the enchanted book, how her heart’s desire had transported them to her birth house in Paris, and how within she and Adam had pieced together the clues of her Mother’s unspoken death. By the end Belle was unable to stop a few rogue tears from escaping down her face. At least it was an improvement from last evening and she was no longer weeping hysterically. All the same she would quickly rub away the tears as soon as they appeared. “My lamb, my lamb…” Beatrice soothed as Belle finished the story. “Don’t be so ashamed, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and all so far from your Father. What a heavy burden you’ve been carrying all alone-I had no idea you were without a mother.”

            “It was so long ago,” Belle sighed surprised she was sharing so much of her life in this way, in the past she was normally such a private person. “But I suppose it seemed to all fall upon me in that moment all I’d missed in my life without her…Mind you my Father has done very well bringing up a girl on his own, but-…” Belle trailed off.

            “There are some things that only serve to be best spoken of with a Mother.” Beatrice said gently. Belle gave a small nod. “Oh dearie,” she sighed compassionately, “I can tell you as a Mother myself, she would have loved you more than anything. And be so proud of the fine woman you are today.” Belle managed a meek smile to these words.

“Can you be so sure though…” Belle said with a sigh. “I can’t help but think now she parted ways with me forever in hopes I would make her proud-and I just find myself wondering now is anything I do living to her expectations?” The melancholy returned to her smile and Beatrice seemed to think a moment before speaking up.

“Have I ever told you the story about my Chip?”

“Your son? what ever do you mean by so?”

“Well, perhaps no one has told you this but his full name is Christian,” by Belle’s puzzled look she went on, “and I gave him that name because he was my miracle child.”

“Miracle child?” Belle had picked the tea cup once more, and became preoccupied with the story to lead her from grief.

“Well you see, myself and Mr.Potts,” It had never occurred to Belle that the woman had a husband. Of all the servants (she had met at least) he was not amongst him, “had been married a good fifteen years-and oh try and pray as we might we simply could not conceive a child.” There was a gentle vulnerability and pain in her voice that was step outside of the maternal warmth Belle had always heard. “And the times we did, well, unfortunately, God took them to heaven before they could have their first breaths.”

“Oh…I am so-.”

“-Now now you needn’t say sorry dearie,” Beatrice continued on, “because that is where my beautiful boy comes in. Now I am not an old maid, but I’m certainly no spring chicken. You see I’d started to lose hope, I’d worried I had become far too old to have any children. But just when hope seems the furthest away-I was given a miracle.” There was a sereneness to her voice, and a beaming smile on the painted lines of her face. “And the moment I held my Chip in my arms-well dearie I knew it didn’t matter what he did, I was already proud of him. Proud of him for coming into this world when all his brothers and sisters couldn’t, and proud myself I was able to create something so beautiful. So the reason I go on lamb, is to assure you there is no great deed you need to do in order for your Mother to be proud of you. I should say she was the moment she held you.”

And to Belle’s great dismay, tears were running down her face once again. Her heart was out pouring with gratitude, and so struck how much she had started taking for granted every servant, every object here, had such vast lives. She had said she wanted to help them-that was why she remained, but it never struck her until now perhaps she should be doing more. Perhaps now was her opportunity to break this horrendous curse which took them all from their lives and families. If her Maman’s sacrifice was to matter, perhaps this was the purpose behind it-to save these wonderful people who had shown her such kindness and given her a place for the first time in her life her eccentricities were not shunned. This was  to be her great adventure; to unravel this enchantment.

            The rest of breakfast went on pleasantly and it put the previous night in the back of Belle’s mind. She listened to Mrs.Potts chatter on about the cooking, and reciting every recipe to Belle that was present on her breakfast tray. Not that she would get to use them as Cuisiner, the head chef, and now stove, was very particular about allowing anyone to touch him-and hence cook beside himself.

            It wasn’t until Belle had dressed, washed, and pinned back her hair for the day, that she recalled the conundrum left in front of her. She exhaled heavily and took a firm seat upon the edge of the bed.

            “You will simply apologize to him-…you will simply dismiss the matter as something of grief. I mean he…he even said he was used to this matter of carnal thing, I doubt it even _matters_ to him.” Belle tried to reason aloud and found herself getting more flustered. The whole incident must have seemed incredibly silly to him if he was used to grand amorous affairs (which was still almost impossible to picture). “Ugn! I can not believe you did something so foolish Belle!” She groaned. Well there was no use stewing it in now, especially when she had more important missions to tend to. All she could do was approach this rationally (which was how she could have avoided all of last evening) and then she could resume things as usual. Reading for education (and pleasure), lifting some of the servant’s burden with the restoration of this castle, and most importantly researching (and eventually breaking) this “curse”. The bells were ringing throughout the castle sounding for luncheon. Damn!

            Adam had gone back and forth in his mind over whether he should skip luncheon or not. First he was all too eager to go and reassure himself Belle was in better spirits and not distraught as the servants had made him fear. But then he realized, if she was indeed distraught, well then his presence could only serve to further agitate her. From there, he grew especially angry. Here he was, getting so strung up over a “minor, hardly carnal, instant”-not even worthy of being dubbed an “encounter”. This was why it was Lumiere’s position to escort out unpleasant bed fellows in the morrow if he no longer wanted to interact with them. But! This was Belle! He had no desire for her to go, or to cease interaction with one of the most interesting women he’d ever met. But! He had no desire to deal with this uncomfortable situation in this already self-conscious body either. Finally, after nearly shredding the newly placed carpet in his chamber from all the pacing, he relented to the meal bell.

            Belle had been sitting awkwardly at the table pushing a stew around with her spoon still trying to rehearse what she would say to Adam, if he ever arrived. Normally he was not this late to a meal, and it was only frustrating the schedule in her mind. However when he did suddenly arrive, seeming especially flustered himself, their eyes met and all of her planned speech evaporated.

            “B-bonjour.” Was all Belle could squeak out.

            “Hrm-…Bonjour.” Responded Adam in a low grumble after a second of seemingly stunned silence. And suddenly seeing Belle in the morning like this brought back all the feelings of the previous evening, even to see her properly dressed. Smothering those ideas and feelings away he swiftly took his seat beside her, wishing for the first time they hadn’t decided to sit closer for discussion at meal times.

            “What in heaven’s name…” Whispered Beatrice to Lumiere as the pair peered in on the scene from the hallway.

            “They aren’t saying a damn thing?” Lumiere muttered in dismay.

            “Oh dear me, this doesn’t make any sense.” Beatrice said worriedly. “I thought you were going to straighten that boy out Lumiere!”

            “Beatrice, Beatrice, I assure you I thoroughly pressed him for information and even Cogsworth gave him a good scare-maybeee… the food is just abysmal.” Beatrice did not look convinced. As much as she felt a motherly duty toward Adam, a protectiveness was growing inside her for Belle. The girl truly was a treasure, and the braver she behaved-the more Beatrice longed to protect her. “Eh…maybe,…maybe they are both tired if they were spending the eve reminiscing over Mamans.” Lumiere posed again hoping to incite some good humor in the woman.

            “Well we had best hope so…that or the girl is truly grieving beyond measure…Perhaps I should go in and-”

            “Beatrice-Beatrice, we must let them sort out their own affairs if they are ever to fall in love.” Lumiere held out a little arm to block the woman from charging forth into the dinning room. The look she gave him made the man wave his hands in theatrical fleur of showmanship. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, I’ll confront him after luncheon!” Lumiere reassured her. Beatrice still appeared unconvinced and sighed turning back toward the kitchens.

            “You had better-do not let him tire that dear girl any further.”

The next twenty minutes passed over the table without much of a word between the pair except some trite and begin comments over the food. Lumiere considered interrupting himself it was becoming even more awkward than their first meals together when they would read in silence at opposite ends of the table. Finally, to everyone’s relief Belle pushed her half-finished bowl away and looked at Adam with an intense determination.

            “Would you like to take a turn about the garden with me-I was hoping to see the flowers, it has been awhile.” The line seemed terribly rehearsed to the point she sounded almost angry. But it was enough to motivate Adam as he nodded quickly.

            “Of course.” Anything to get out of this uncomfortable silence with the servants watching and overanalyzing a scene neither knew how to handle. It wasn’t until they were outside, treading through the freshly fallen snow, _and_ at least a ten minute walk out of earshot, that Belle stopped suddenly.

            “Adam,” She inhaled heavily gathering her courage, but he didn’t notice because he was startled by how pleasant it was to hear his name from her. “I am offering my most sincere apologies for how I behaved last evening.” The words hung in the air like their frozen breathes, as he seemed to process what she was saying.

            “You-why are _you_ apologizing?” Adam finally managed past his flabbergast.

            “I beg your pardon?” Genuinely baffled she tried to understand his meaning.

            “I-, if anyone should be apologizing it should be me.”

            “What do you mean I was the one-”

            “-No I am not hearing it Belle, you were distraught and-”

            “-I was not as out of my senses as you may perceive-”

            “-You’ve never been in a situation like that-”

            “-Excuse me I am not some child who was absolutely ignoran-!”

            “-Damn it Belle will you let me apol-!”

            “-Will you stop being so assuming-You shouldn’t be apologizing when I asked, and I brought us-!”

            Adam let out a low growl which loud enough to cut through their argument.

            “Belle!”

            “What!” She snapped flushed with embarrassment and stress from how far off-course he had taken her rehearsed apology.

            “Stop apologizing for something which brought no offense or discomfort to me in the least!” Adam declared more loudly than he meant. Her silence made his own stomach twist in embarrassment as he cleared his throat loudly. “So then…That is that.” He straightened up the edges of his jacket in such a posh and prim way it would have annoyed her had she not been so stunned.

            “…Are you sure?” Belle finally tentatively posed. Adam sighed as though she were giving him the worst migraine of his life.

            “Yes Belle, that was not exactly uncharted territory for me. I long ago became only a Catholic by name, so if you are concerned about my immortal soul you needn’t be. I’ve been in far more debauch situations.”

            “I assumed so based on our conversation last eve…” Belle sighed as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders. Her tone seemed to bring his thoughts to catch up with him.

            “With that said, that is what I was trying to say…I’m not about to compromise your honor or maidenhood in any way just because I long ago resigned my soul to the devil. I do not wish you to be in fear of your immortal-.”

            “Oh goodness,” She managed a smile now and let out a dry laugh. “That was your concern?” She rose a brow. He gave low snort urging her to go on rather than look at him so condescendingly. “No it seems we are similar in that aspect…” again he was giving her prompting look, “well you see, my Father was part of those detested libertine artist groups and never much valued church-and well the more I read of logic and reason I found it harder and harder to believe in such things I could not touch or feel. That, and I could not be content with the expected conduct for women based on the bible.” Belle said with a displeased shake of her head. Adam couldn’t help but half-smirk again as they had returned to an easy stride together. “Mind you, I’m not so ignorant to assume we understand all of the world-especially if there are things like these sorts of enchantments I would have never fathomed existed right outside of my village. But I have to believe God is kinder to women than the priests do say.”

            “I never considered that, but I can admit it seems you are right…hm what a misfortune it would be if you followed the bible and tried behave silently as it instructs. The world would be without your sharp tongue.” He gave her a small smirk, and she returned it with a light laugh the tension finally dissipating.

“Well what a relief you are a detestable libertine too then.” Belle teased, however the look on his face became somber once again.

“I had a similar thought there couldn’t be such an all in control and benevolent God who lets a castle full of innocent people become damned over one bastard’s mistakes.” His mind drifted further back to the curse he had been murmuring to himself just that morning. Belle lifted her eyes recognizing how far away his gaze had become.

            “…Go on?”

            “What-…I-…” Adam paused like the intake of breath had been water, and nothing was able to come out. He scowled, and looked away from her as they continued their walk. “Seems fresh snow fell this morning…” Was all he managed with annoyance.

            “Why is it none of you will talk of this curse?” Belle pressed, a bit more compassionately this time. To her question she received no response; Adam only shook his head folding his hands behind his back as they walked. For a moment she wondered if it was too painful for them, and sighed as they crossed their favorite place on the grounds upon the small frost covered bridge over the beautifully frozen pond. Filing it away in her mind she would re-approach the subject once she had done more research. Mercifully, she changed the topic. “Thank you…for being so supportive last evening when I felt so hysterical.”

             “I meant to ask how you faired today?”

            “Better, Mrs.Potts was actually a great comfort too, to my utter embarrassment it seems my weeping was overheard like you did warn.” Adam let out a sarcastic chortle.

            “Gossips all of them. Lumiere and Cogsworth confronted me the same wanting to know what went on.” Belle couldn’t help but let out a chuckle herself.

            “They really do mean well.”

            “Don’t give them too much credit.” Adam muttered rolling his eyes as he rested his forearms upon the railing of the bridge. The sun was setting now, creating beautiful streams of yellow and orange across the simmering lake. “But really…is there anything else that could help you?” He looked over with some guilt, a day of awkwardness and questioning was not what she needed after such a trying night. Belle hugged her shawl tighter and joined him at his side also reclining her arms on the bridge rail.

            “It’s funny, you’re all being so kind to me. I would have never expected when I found this kind of tragedy in my life it would be met with so many people trying to help me. My village often looks down on overemotional girls as frivolous.” The smile on her face was sad, but her eyes were warm from all the sentiment.

            “Belle you are the least frivolous girl I have ever known. You could bare to be a touch more frivolous.” He huffed.

            “Oh I think I was plenty ridiculous with my requests last eve don’t you?”

            “…No, not if it comforted you.” Adam admitted in a lower more bashful voice just as he had when trying to justify reading _Guinevere and Lancelot_. Belle went redder than the sunset.

            “…I suppose it did.” Her voice so soft he only heard it due to his supernatural senses.

            “Then no shame or apologies out of you, I would do it all again if it assisted your grief.” Adam said gruffly, yes of course it was to comfort her-not his own desire…he again had to force away the thoughts of what her body must have looked like beneath that shift.

            “Thank you for not thinking me a harlot.” Her voice finally sounded more at ease than it had all day.

            “Thank you…for not being repulsed by having a Beast touch you.”

            “I already told you, I do not think there is anything repellent about your form Adam.” She sighed patting one of his paws with her gloved hand. Once again he felt like a timid boy who had never stood close to a woman, instead of an experienced man. For a moment they simply watched the setting sun before once again he found his voice.

            “I don’t think there is anything wrong with your desire to know more. And…um,…if you are ever in need of testing further theories…I would oblige.” He could hardly believe the words that left his mouth and wanted to knee himself in the groin for surely he was thinking with it.

            “You really…you really do not think less of me.” Belle said in quiet astonishment.

            “After all I’ve done…all the interesting people I have met in the world, and as I said my own feelings toward the holy book, I suppose I don’t look at people any differently for those behaviors. You would be surprised how debase the French Court can be, a load of hypocrites most are…I preferred to just admit to my baser tendencies.” And that is why you are here, reminded a nagging voice in his head. If he had tried to be less of an ass to everyone, to resist the cruelty and apathy his Father had left him, he could of avoided it all. “Despite all the misfortune that brought me, I should say it at least left me with an open mind.”

            “I will say, you are the first man to encourage my reading outside of our local book keep and my Father.” Adam snorted to this once more.

            “You have the intelligence of a woman well above your station, anyone mocking it just reveals the commonness of their own.” He said sternly. Belle lifted her head with a tsk.

            “Oh…my station?” Adam grit his teeth, damn his tongue. 

            “I meant-…you should be proud?”

            “You really are a snob at heart.” She strolled over the bridge in mock offense then looked back at him. “You were royalty then, am I right?” A prideful part of himself puffed up ready to demand ‘am’ not ‘was’. But once again a more mature voice responded to him, that was foolish to debate, then recollection of the nightmare returned-and he didn’t want much to do with being a prince at all.

            “The past is past. I was a right bastard and justly-” he couldn’t believe he was saying this “punished for it” Adam replied coldly then sighed, reminding himself he was angry at himself not her. Belle was silent for a moment, contemplating his words briefly.

            “But you were human once, were you not?” She posed softly.

“…I prefer to focus on what is now than what was.” He added more carefully. Belle turned back toward him taking a few cautious steps.

            “Adam…I told you all, after you were wounded, I wanted to help, and the more I think of this all, of my being here-I want to find a way to break this curse for you all. Clearly you all need my help or everyone would not be so eager to make sure I remain.” The speed she deduced the situation again made him nervous-how much did she know? “I have solved many things, and I think I am perfectly capable of understanding even this kind of…magic,” She said the word with reluctance as it existed so outside the boundaries of logic. “But I think it will be much more resilient of a pursuit if you can assist me.” Adam was momentarily stunned, and moved. She had gone from prisoner, to now so passionately advocating to save them all. Had he been better with words surely he would have found a way to express his awe at the depth of her heart-but rather he managed a simple:

            “I shall then. But-…don’t be overtly optimistic.”

            “I do think this castle, and especially you could use a little more of that-and it is not just optimism when you follow Gaileo’s scientific method-it is research, theory, and results.” Belle responded matter of factly which reminded him so much of a governess. Part of him questioned if this project was her way of plunging into work to avoid grief, but if there was someone who could better unravel this curse than the rest of his castle had-it would surely be Belle. He managed to give her a meek smile, since he could say no more, and it was the most thanks he was able to display.

            “It is growing dark, you will catch a chill.”

            “I’ve spent colder a winter evening in miserable shack.” she argued, but it was in good nature now as she walked toward him once again and they began to retrace their steps back to the castle.

            “Don’t tell me your home is-.” Alarm in Adam’s voice as he began.

            “Oh no, no, only when I was little. It took my Father a time to earn a reputation as credible artist in Villeneuve so our living was simple-taxes were horrible as well he says, but thankfully around my eigth summer our prospects greatly improved. Others had a far more difficult time.” She gave him a smile. Adam turned away wondering if that had been his own doing, he hadn’t considered in a long time what wreckage he had caused while in control since becoming somewhat more aware of other’s feelings in this state.

            “I’m sorry you had to endure that…”

            “Adam, just because we did not all have expensive upbringings does not mean life was utter dread.” However as they continued their walk in the dark a chill did cause a shudder across her shoulders.

            “I warned you the cold would catch up to you,”

            “Oh hush you will sound like a nag.” Belle rubbed her arms together envying a moment he was coated in the warm fur she found herself against last evening. If her nose and cheeks weren’t already pink from the cold, they would be again. “Just because I do not have luxurious fur does not mean I will catch my death.”

            “Luxurious, there’s a new way to think of it.” Came his aloof droll.

            “Yes you have the fortune of never worrying much of the cold unlike some of us.”

            “And the bloody pain it is to clean, and brush, and-.”

            “Oh hush,” She playfully waved her hand in a gesture of silence. “Be grateful you are at least warm right now.”

            “Well if you’re that cold, you could walk alongside me…” Once again he found himself thinking with his lower capacities that logic. This feeling of closeness with her was overwhelmingly intoxicating it was difficult to deny.

            “I would think you were tired of me so close after I practically smothered you last evening.”

            “I can’t deny I enjoyed the experience…and did you?” He murmured under his breath, there was some courage finally. Belle’s nervous laugh came out again as she dropped her eyes.

            “I…can not believe you are asking me so…”

            “Did you not say friends should be honest?” Belle let out an incredulous laugh realizing he was using her own words against her. However the only response was a raise of his brow pressing her to go on.

            “I should think my reactions made my…enjoyment obvious is all.” Came her shy reply with a shrug of shoulders.

            “There are women who do make a false show of such reactions to please others.” Belle scoffed at this.

            “Now I know you must have been important, I can not fathom putting on such a performance for anyone…”

            “You do not, do you?” His question was more of a meditation on his part, perhaps that was what was so appealing about time about this girl. Everything about her was so forthright and authentic, she was so accustomed to mistreatment and judgement, she did not have any airs to change peoples’ perception. In a way, it was like a mirror of himself-but somehow she had retained her kindness and empathy unlike himself. Except for the sake of her pride and protection, which he noticed once more as her body couldn’t contain another shiver. “Come here,” He held out his arm to her. Belle opened her mouth to protest but he prevented her with “If you catch another cold the staff will confine you to bed…and I doubt even I could control that.” That was a bit of an exaggeration, and she knew, but it was enough to excuse her resistance as she stepped closer to him.

            Beside him, she truly felt so small. The width of his arm was enough that it felt like a small shawl upon her back, which then wrapped around her free arm. Against him, she only reached beneath his shoulder as he towered over her in stature. It startled him how precious and tiny she could be in the moment-how much she affected him and yet she was still just a woman. Belle felt the opposite, his stature, which had once terrified her, now felt like a fortress. Even the strength she could feel in how obviously careful he was being with his arm about her was more…invigorating than frightful. Now she could smell fine perfumes on him and in his clothing; orange peel and coriander. Sweet with a slight spice musk, how fitting for his personality was all she could think. For a few moments their walk was in silence as he adjusted his stride to her smaller gait.

            “To answer your question I do not put on performances for anyone. I tried when I was younger-to better fit in with the village, I would hide my books, and I smiled and pretended to be interested in many things…” Belle sighed heavily. “Clearly I could not stand it because it did not last for long before my true self always slipped out, my dissatisfaction with a comment, my intellect on a topic being superior than someone else’s,…now I sound like the snob don’t I?” She chuckled running a her hands over flushed cheeks from embarrassment and to incite heat.

            “You sound more aware of your worth-you would do well to keep that in mind.”

            “Ha! I will recall that, the next time I feel a pang of remorse for being so cold to Mousier Gaston.”

            “Who is this Mousier Gaston-you mentioned him last evening as well?” It had never really dawned on him the life she left behind-was this one of her courtiers? Her fiancé? Was the entire castle conspiring to earn him the love of a betrothed woman? However Belle’s groan of exasperation dissipated some of his worries instantly.

            “He is…the most beloved man in the village, _and_ a war hero…” She muttered reluctantly.

            “Your tone suggests he is more than such positive attributes-I prefer to know your option than the village’s.” For a moment Belle made a pout almost like a child’s then like the night before emotion poured out that she seemed to be holding in.

            “…I personally can not stand the man’s presence. He is brainless, boorish, and so preoccupied with his own desires I should not be startled if he felt the sun rose only for him.”

            “Hmph sounds like a someone I once was-“

            “Oh hardly!” Belle rolled her eyes and waved her hands to stress each point. “He sees himself as this ‘great hunter’, but really it is because all of his desire to simply shoot anything that moves-I would not doubt it is because he is desperate to continue reminding everyone he is _such_ a war hero-and it is all he dares to better himself at. He acts as though a book would bite him if he dared to pick it up!”

            “Hmm, so content with provincial life.”

            “Yes!” Belle exclaimed with exasperation. “And that would be all fine and simple but he _refuses_ to listen to my constant rejections-he constantly tells me I will change my mind, as if the fiftieth time asking for my hand would incite such a change in me from the first twenty! The most infuriating part though is just this assumption I could not possibly understand my own mind or needs! I made the mistake of allowing him to kiss my cheek once during a Christmas dance, and now he is so assured one day I will be giving birth to his brood of sons.” The repulsion in her voice would have been comical had he not detected a twinge of fear underneath it all.

            “A man who can not hear the word ‘no’ can be dangerous…” Adam said quietly as they walked onward. Belle shook her head in dismay pinching her brows together.

            “It makes my time here…somewhat welcomed, maybe he will finally move on in my absence.” Belle’s steps slowed as she looked up at him. “…You did not-…you did not treat women like so in your amorous affairs did you?” Adam came to a stop, as he looked over to her-this was perhaps the most of her fears she had ever revealed when often she behaved so bravely.

            “It is odd to hear you described them as amor…on the contrary it was-purely carnal on my part. But I-…” Now it was his turn to express a fear he so wasn’t interested in divulging. But her brown eyes in that moment were so defenseless, it was impossible to leave her alone in this exposure. “Que Dieu me vienne en aide …You’ve heard now my Father, was a right bastard in every sense of the word, he was not…he did not give much patience of any sort to my Mother or any of the women he…” It was difficult to prevent the rage from entering his voice. “he kept.” Adam let her go and turned to face her head on as he was this fear. “You’re a bold and quick girl, I won’t diminish your intelligence by curtailing all this in pretty words. He was a _saluad_ true and true. There were many times women of the court-and my own Mother were forced to his bed whether they willed it or not, and without any sort of consideration for what pain they endured.” His voice was a near snarl now, his hands had clenched in fists at his sides. “So I can assure you-no one was my bed fellow or my paramour without a willingness on their part. That doesn’t excuse the amount of false flattery and unfair inducement I would provide many but...I did not coerce or lie, or physical force...!” He was shifting on his feet uncomfortably and let out a great sigh. “I’ve never tried to hide from you the Beast I am or was.” Belle nodded slowly and looked at him still.

            “And I appreciate your frankness as well…I am relieved to hear you did not follow his footsteps, and I can know that as fact by your consideration last eve…" It was obvious from her eyes she was displaying her own judgement of his actions, but he accepted it in that moment, finally having the maturity to see the error. "And I am pleased you recognize what an obnoxious and **cruel** way that was to behave." Adam nodded, his admission to this guilt and integrity was not what she would have expected from their first meeting. It again confused her how different-or what he was before all this enchantment. A few snowflakes dusted across her hair and his, and she realized he was awaiting her permission for their next move. "I am sorry for all your Mother endured.” She said softly.          

           “…So am I.” To his surprise she took his arm, not as close as before but still looped her own in it as though he were escorting her home.

            “I can admit I surely will freeze if we do not return for supper soon-and we will surely be interrogated even further if we miss it.” The small smile she gave him was the greatest gift he could have received in that moment.

            “So leaving you out in the cold evening air is all it takes to convince you of your limitations? I will keep that in mind.” He replied returning the look.

            “Do not press me, I can find continual strength in whatever occasion it is needed.” Was the defiant remark, which returned the normalcy to their conversation as they made the chilly walk back. Somehow closer than before, despite the further space between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continued kudos and comments! I read every single one and really enjoy feedback.
> 
> Finally some more character and relationship progression now that we've introduced most of the cast :) It was especially fun researching 18th century scents for this. Also for anyone wondering, Adam calls his Father basically the worst French word you can for a man. Don't worry, the E rating will apply next chapter once again ;) 
> 
> If you'd like to show your support or for more notes & updates on my writing, art, and fantasy inspirations check out my tumblr:
> 
> http://senoraluna.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter IV

 

            “Mon Cherie you are doing it again.” Plumette’s tone was sweet enough, despite her growing aggravation for how distant her lover appeared.

            “Hm-what?” Lumiere turned his gaze away from the crackling fire place, back to the enchanted peacock at his side which he had come to recognize betrothed as.

            “That distant look again, I know something is on your mind.” She scolded, flicking a feather beneath his metallic nose.

            “Oh my darling, darling,” He soothed, in his much too enchanting voice. “I was simply dreaming of you once more-how I know the future will soon be bright and full of-…”

            “Do not tell me stories you silly man.” Chided the woman. “I can tell when something has shaken your spirits if it is cutting into our time.” It was one of their only alone times. Often when the daily duties had been completed, and the castle grew silent as all fell asleep, the pair would take refuge in one of the side parlors enjoying the soothing light of the fire place. Heat being one of the sensations she could still feel-and one he was constantly comforted by. It was one of the few times they could count on possibly feeling at peace in one another’s company without interrupting obligations. However, as the years had waned on in this curse, both endured struggles-for how can you remember all you loved about a person when they are no longer a person. Plumette attributed it on Lumiere’s constant optimism and passion-he knew how to keep her spirits up even in the most hopeless of times. Such was why this evening left them in such a strange position, even as Lumiere struggled not to be anything less than the perfect gentleman to his beloved.

            “Oh mon amour, it is not a story to sit here recollecting on how wonderful it was meeting you the first time. I was certain a fair folk was walking around this palace-for your beauty was far too much to behold.” Normally this is when he would have embraced her-but he knew well enough by this time how many times his flames had nearly burnt her to surprise her with such a gesture. “You must have been born from the fairest peony, to create such a face.” And with this he had brought a smile to her face, it was hard not to be elated by his stories as she let out a sweet laugh.

            “Oh Guillaume,” this was a tease on her part-the man detested his first name and gave only her pass to say it. Although she was abusing the power, since the stipulation he had given her was only to use that name when she was calling it out in ecstatic pleasure. Sadly, they had not any opportunity for his stipulation to pass in many years. “It has been so long…how do you even remember my face mon cherie?”

            “How does a mere mortal forget the sight of a divine being?” Was his charming and rather cheeky response. “The answer is-they do not. Once touched by such divinity-oh it can not be forgotten.” From any other man she would surely roll her eyes but Lumiere’s poetic praise always came from such a place of zealous sincerity. But even as she returned his smile, the look of joy faded from his metallic features “Ah mon amour…I should have eloped with you ages ago…” This response initially instituted a giggle from Plumete.

            “I do not think most ministers would see fit to marry a peacock and candelabra.”

            “No Cherie…I mean, when we were human before this all began.” He held out an arm-as if ready to caress her cheek, before it dawned on him that was something impossible to do. The gesture pained her heart, after all their years enchanted it had been a long time since he forgot their limitations like so.

            “Lumiere…what has you thinking of such things?” She asked softly, moving closer to him that their figures were leaning against one another. A great sigh left him.

            “Adam was reciting the curse the other day,” and to this news Plumette gasped as her feathers flared.

            “That was a rotten thing to do, I don’t care what his status his, he should not be working everyone up into a frenzy.” Plumette was more than bold enough to chide their master when out of his earshot. It was part of what Lumiere adored about her, she was so charming, so poised, but not afraid to tell anyone off if she felt they behaved unfairly. “But we all know he can be obtuse and a simple brat. Do not let it affect you.” Her feathers brushed across his cheek.

            “Oui oui mon amour but-…” The man trailed off, his smile was gone.

            “What is it?” She asked softly. And now Lumiere spoke in a softer, more somber tone.

            “Ah mon amour…sometimes I think it was easier to hope blindly than see our…hope so distinctly in front of us, where it can run out the door or window at any time.”

            “Oh Lumiere…” Plumette soothed. Several sympathetic phrases ran through her mind, but the conclusion was that there was no way to remedy what her fiancé felt. For she felt the same. Part of her loathed Adam, for doing this to the man she had always seen so full of sunshine. Unable to give any simple solution to make it better she resorted, “I hate his issues with the girl have made you feel this way. I wish I could do something more vengeful than hope to make him sneeze if I see to it no one dusts the west wing.” However the woman’s malice was the one balm Lumiere needed as he let out a low laugh.

            “Oh Plumette, your passion! How I adore it mon amour.” His metallic face pressed against the peacock brow in the only version of a kiss he could provide. “But do not waste your fury-that beautiful spark cherie-as I said it was all a misunderstanding, he did not upset the girl. I even accosted him again-and nearly got thrown into a snow bank. But he reassured me they were not quarreling, and Adam is too bad a liar if that were not true.”

            “Still! It seems like you are trying more than he to make sure she falls in love!” Plumette argued ruffling her feathers. “I know you value him like family but he certainly does not you.” Was her sharp reply.

            “Ah mon amour, we can not all be love savants like I. And he, well I do not blame you cherie you worked here the shortest of us all before this took place-but oh if you had seen him growing up even as an adolescent it was I who had to teach the boy on the arts of amour-his bastard of a Father was useless and inadept. Something tells me he is falling for this girl, and desiring her-hence all this awkward behavior.” Plumette continued to appear annoyed despite his attempts.

            “He is not a child any longer Lumiere.”

            “Oui, but not all men are as gifted as I. You know it was when I first began working here I even had to give Cogsworth advice on is marriage.” Plumette let out a near snort of a laugh at this it was so absurd.

            “Oh Lumiere you are lucky that man has yet to bludgeon you with that gong inside him!” She chortled at the thought remembering Cogsworth’s very stern and demanding wife Clothhilde. She had only met the woman a handful of times before the curse but it was easy to see there was not much love on Cogsworth’s side.

            “Ah see mon amour, now that would be something to despair over. If this curse involved making Henri fall in love with his wife- _then_ we would be doomed.” Plumette was struggling to stop laughing.

            “Lumiere!”

            “I only speak the truth mon cherie!”

            “Oui and it gets you in constant trouble!”

            “Oh a small price to pay for such a smile on your face…now be assured, I have seen the girl in far better spirits these last few days…she’s even looking for alternative ways to end enchantments…it seems everything is going back on track and we have nothing to worry about.”

“Oui, I saw her sleeping in the library, which is, more promising than anything else we’ve had all these years…”

“Exactly, we’ll be human in no time mon Cherie.” Despite how warmly Lumiere spoke the words, the pair once again fell into a tense silence against one another. Neither fell asleep easily that evening.

           

            Belle had never felt such a distain toward books. Never in her life did she imagine it would be possible to reach a point they were causing her stress, disappointment, and building frustration. Though, to be fair, she had never asked so much from books as she was now. For the last three days, she had created a settlement in the grand library, at first only leaving for meals, or to refresh herself, and then by day two getting to the point even those simple needs she was finding ways to ignore. Most likely she would have survived on minimal trips to the toilet had Mrs.Potts not been insistent on bringing meals to her in the library since she seemed to easily forget eating. And it was Plumette, who had found her finally passed out in exhaustion in one of the armchairs who pieced together she was not sleeping normally nor returning to her chamber for rest. It was then the castle staff made sure to check in the fire remained stoked in the eve, and a blanket put upon her so she did not catch a chill in the enormous drafty library.

            Adam hadn’t realized just how loaded Belle’s statement had been when she announced after supper she was going to begin some “research”. It had been the night they walked in after many interesting conversations in the snow (some more uncomfortable than he cared to reflect on), so he was more than willing to give her space. Especially if she was planning to use this time to research breaking the curse. Maybe everyone was wrong, maybe Adam didn’t have to force some stranger to fall in love with him (looking this way especially), which to him was an especially vague and nonsensical stipulation for the curse if he was the one who had made the error. It was one of the rare times he would be more than pleased to be wrong about his interpretation of the poetic enchantment.

            However this had all been three days ago. Before Belle had become a hermit in towers of books, with bags under her eyes, unfinished plates of food constantly sent away, and continual grudge building up on her clothing and face. She had enough splotches of ink across her that she looked like chimney sweep. For along with her mountain of book after book, she was continually taking vigorous notes of anything that could be of use when it came to the idea of understanding this strange undefinable thing called magic. Now everyone was getting worried, and especially Cogsworth with his desire to maintain an orderly house with orderly people was at the point of protesting to Adam.

            “Master, I must insist at this point the girl is out of her senses and in need of intervention.” Cogsworth was agitatedly pacing along the dinning hall table where Adam was supping alone for the third day in a row. He too was beginning to miss Belle’s presence.

            “I thought I told Mrs.Potts to convince her to come to supper this eve” Adam said in a mixture of aggravation and confusion.

            “She tried, therein lies the issue. None of her coaxing seemed to be enough to drive her away from her task. Grant you we are all very thrilled and grateful she seems so committed to finding another means to dispel this enchantment we may not have known” of everyone Cogsworth sounded the least enthused about this prospect “-however all we have now are what we do know-and that is she _must_ love you, and she can not very well do that if she is ill from how she is going on now.”

            “You are so compassionate.” Adam grumbled sarcastically, glaring down the majordomo.

            “Master regulations are regulations, besides an unwed girl as herself should not be sleeping in a library.”

            “Oh…I didn’t realize you invited the court over to gossip and observe what was happening here.” Came his flippant response.

            “Well!-I am just trying to look out for the girl’s honor!” Cogsworth blustered. “After all it is the least we could do for her Father who has entrusted her care to us!” Adam pinched the bridge of his nose, his majordomo had such a way of seeing things. He was about to pointedly remind him that Belle’s Father had no desire to leave her behind save that he was forced out of the castle by his own temper when he thought the man a common thief mocking what was left of his legacy.

            “I do not see the problem with letting her read, and sleep there-I told her the library was her’s.” Adam took a large bite of peasant in a dismissive manner to further annoy Cogsworth.

            “That-does not make any sense! Now listen here I am just looking out for the girl’s well being-“

            “I didn’t realize hell froze over” Adam mocked between chews, but Cogsworth was too driven with his point to scold him for poor table manners.

            “And according to the staff she is in need of rest, food, and a good washing. And I say this to you since the rest of the staff is far too eager at the idea of being human again, but all this enchantment nonsense can wait until later.” This finally gave Adam pause as he groaned in surrender. The man was right, and he was grateful Cogsworth could at least be level headed in this matter if everyone else was so obsessed with Belle’s results.

            “Very well I will speak to her.”

            “Thank you!” Cogsworth exclaimed exasperatedly. “Honestly Master I am surprised how much you allow her to run wild.”

“She’s not an animal, don’t speak of her like that.” Adam snapped more angered at this point.

“It’s-it’s just an expression!” Cogsworth back peddled, “I merely mean she is quite a unique girl, and I know you prefer things orderly.”

“You prefer things orderly, I’ve grown ambivalent.”

“She is a fine young woman though-we all admire her.”

“Of course you do…” Adam muttered sarcastically.

“Well I shall tell Mrs.Potts you will assist in this intervention-very good decision on your part Master.” Cogsworth sputtered out quickly, slipping away before Adam grew into a worse mood. He nearly muttered out loud he didn’t know who was more difficult the Master or Lumiere-but wasn’t about to insight the first’s temper.

            Belle at this point was sprawled out on the floor with several towers of books around her. She had categorized them as; her scientific theories: physics, biology, and natural histories or other explanations for what “magic” that apparently made up this house and curse could physically be. The next was history; France, Monarchy lines, Villeneuve-anything that could provide on context on why this happened here. And lastly, the part she struggled most with keeping organized, was descriptions and all writing on the supernatural in general. Folks tales, Fairy Tales, Mythology, Shakespeare to Marlow, bookmarked sections of religious text which mentioned encounters with witches, demons, goblins, and anything unhuman which could affect them. The filing system made sense-at least to her. To everyone else, it looked as though she had swept a row of books off the shelf and tried to build a fort out of them. Even worse were the various stacks of parchment around her. Each page filled with tight scribbled notes of possibly anything which could be of use for how does one define what defies all logic?! In truth, the past three days despite how fascinating all the information was, seemed to only take her farther and farther away from a potential answer.

            “Damn it.” Belle muttered closing shut “Local Parisian Ballads: Tales from Sailors”. Drunken sea-shanties had plenty mention of how beautiful mermaids could be, but that didn’t do anything to help her cause. Her eyes were beginning to ache from straining to read all the text, that she found herself dropping her head down to her forearms as a headache pounded. Perhaps a short moment to rest them was called for-but only a moment.

            “Belle…Belle!” A deep voice in her ear, and something was moving her back lightly. Blinking she looked up to see Adam kneeling at her side. His paw was carefully shaking her awake, and his eyes were looking at her as if she had just fallen down the stairs. Behind him she could see the concerned face of Mrs.Potts seated atop her familiar rolling tray.

            “Hm…what is it? Oh goodness, did I fall asleep again.” She sat up as he withdrew his hand automatically and she began fishing amongst her book pile. Cogsworth hadn’t been exaggerating when Adam took sight of her. He could see her hair was getting tangled knots from all the strange sleeping positions and some flew in her face. Across her hands and wrists were ink stains, which she had somehow smudged onto her forehead, chin, and cheek. Most concerning were the dark circles under her eyes which looked as though she had not slept properly in months.

            “How much have you slept in the last few days?”

            “At least two hours each evening…” She yawned reaching for another volume.

            “And you have barely eaten any food.” Beatrice chimed in her voice full of concern.

            “That is enough.” Adam gently caught Belle’s hand, from opening another book and to his relief she was too tired to give much protest.

            “I am in the midst of learning more though…” She half slurred and yawned. It would have been rather humorous had she not looked so unkept and obsessive.

            “You’re worrying the staff and look like you crawled out of the chimney.”

            “That is not very nice…” Belle murmured.

            “Poppet we are only trying to say it is time for a pause in this endeavor!” Beatrice pleaded and scolded at the same time. “Even Mousier Cogsworth is concerned and he’s a man who adores work and order probably more than you!” Belle gave a small shrug and halfway sat up pushing hair out of her face.

            “I assure you I am perfectly fine…” Came her garbled voice.

            “Come now on your feet.” Adam urged, it was concerning to see how absorbed in work she could become. Belle let out a little murmur of protest shifting to her side. This was like tending to former companions who had drank far too much at his parties, was all he could think with a huff. When a person wanted to sleep it off you might as well bring in a shovel to pry them off the surface they were determined to sleep on.

“Now listen here,” Beatrice began in her authoritative tone. “either you are going to leave this library for a good rest, meal, and bath by your own will or we are going to have to force you out.” Belle’s response with a sigh as she picked up a thick old book titled “The Greek Gods and Mortals”.

“I assure you…I will be quite fine…” yawning even as she said the words.

“Now don’t force me to see you carried out of here.” Beatrice warned and then gave Adam a nod of encouragement. Inwardly he felt himself go red-he hadn’t expected this sort of task when asked to assist with this intervention. He nearly shook his head in a boyish protest-but reminded himself he was a prince, and he couldn’t let even Beatrice command him about in front of Belle. Knowing she wasn’t about to get up of her volition, Adam cautiously put a hand on her shoulder once more to try and rouse her.

            “I am going to carry you to your chamber if you do not stand up Belle.” After the fears she had expressed of men lacking all respect, he felt very tentative to put his hands upon her-especially when she was so out of her senses. Belle grumbled quietly, grabbing another quill to take further notes.

            “I will do all of that after…this…one…”She trailed off, her eyes drooping as the quill slipped in her hand smearing more ink.

            “Very well, you have brought this upon yourself, I will not see you work yourself ill in here.” Beatrice chided, her tone sharp as she again gave Adam a look of encouragement. Adam hesitated a moment, trying to figure the most noninvasive way to lift up the girl. Finally he put one paw across her shoulder, and the other around her thigh in hopes of easily twisting her around in his grasp. Preparing himself for a kick or smack, he was absolutely surprised when Belle (somewhat deliriously) went slack to the handling and relented to him. Adam wondered if either women could notice how much he felt himself sweating to avoid running his hand across her thigh, or letting the other palm accidently slip over her breast as he adjusted his hold. Finally he felt he had Belle in the most chaste grip, an arm underneath her back the other supporting her knees. So why had his heart yet to stop racing?

            If Mrs.Potts did notice anything she said nothing, nor did Belle who merely closed her eyes still clutching the Greek mythology book. In her mind she was against a giant pillow. Adam was sure he didn’t breathe properly until they reached Belle’s chamber. By then she was asleep in his arms.

            “Oh my poor little Signorina!” cried out Madame Garderobe who awoke with a start when the trio entered. “She looks absolutely miserable-whatever did you do?”

            “Nothing!” Adam snapped curtly.

            “She’s been sleeping in the library.” Beatrice chided as her cart wheeled into the room.

            “Oh little Bella…” hummed Madame Garderobe in a sweet fashion. “I did begin to worry when she was not coming to bed, but I had wondered if that meant she and the Signor had become closer.” Adam almost dropped Belle as his ears and tail twitched in alarm.

            “Aurelia!” Beatrice chided. “This is not Venice, or the back room of an opera house. Do not think so crudely of the dear girl.”

            “Beatrice, Beatrice,” sang Aurelia, “I am speaking love, of passion, there is no crudity there!”

            “Well you can not rush such things, I’ll thank you very much.” Was the woman’s haughty reply. As the pair debated Adam did everything he could to regulate his thoughts, as he set Belle down carefully on the bed and placed the book on her bed stand. She however stirred to the bickering rubbing her eyes.

            “What is going on…” She slurred.

            “Oh sweet Signorina we were simply expressing our concern over you. You should not be sleeping away in libraries, and books, as I have said a many times, you are a beautiful young maiden who should be enjoying life’s pleasures.” Aurelia chimed, despite the agitated tutting from Beatrice.

            “Books are a pleasure…” Belle mumbled only half awake.

            “Now now don’t stir her up again,” Beatrice cut in, her cart whizzed over to Belle’s beside. “You need some rest dearie. And I’ll see to it a warm bath is drawn up for you when you wake.” Belle made a strange gurgle of a response as she looked around the room, just in time to see her closest friend, the Beast, slipping out the door sheepishly as the two older women did their best to fuss over her. Belle lacked much time to contemplate the situation before her heavy eyelids had won over her brain’s desire to continue theories.

            Adam nearly slammed the door to his chamber, the tension coiled up in his stomach too much to bear. Had he not felt in all good health a moment ago, he would have sworn he had a fever. These thoughts of Belle were becoming all too consuming, and holding her, hearing talk of her be his bed-fellow did not help. Furiously he shrugged off his jacket tossing it aside. It was foolish to consider anything that happened that night in her grief would occur again. These kind of thoughts only did discredit to the first woman he had ever respected for her mind and friendship rather than what amusement she could provide. But the devil knew they were pleasant thoughts to dwell on, despite the shame that followed. It had been _so long_ since he had lain with anyone. So long since he dared to give more than a hasty humiliating session of self-relief to the idea of lust. However he could not bring himself to do that act which could possibly provide some relief using thoughts of _Belle._ She had been his prisoner once, and she was innocent. He chuckled dryly a moment thinking how much she would be insulted by his simple definition. But it was true, and the idea of taking pleasure from a trapped woman only sickened him for how akin it seemed to his Father. Stalking out to the balcony he took a seat on the icy ground and reclined his head on a newly formed snow pile. It took a lot to make this fur and muscle heavy body cold, but it was the only kind of balm he could provide to try and push away the indecent thoughts. Each icy inhale an attempt to extinguish the fire in his groin-and then one look of the encased rose, assisted him in losing all desire.

            Eventually, his body felt calm enough to think sensibly once more. He reflected on Belle more calmly, feeling a tender gratitude for her efforts, even if they gotten manic. Hadn’t he promised to assist her in this quest? Even if it could be pointless? Maybe he needed to practice this kind of blind faith more often. The least he could do now is go organize the madness she had left in the library before the maids swept it all away. That would be a pleasant surprise once she had recovered and hopefully this one would go better than their Paris trip.

            Belle was not keen to admit it, but the rest enforced upon her had been sorely needed. The pounding headache was finally gone, and she felt some of her wits returning following the hearty meal Mrs.Potts had nearly threatened her to complete. But now was when she was truly feeling like herself again, having a moment of solitude in a warm bath. Baths had been one of the few things she had been strict on when first arriving to the castle, that she did _not_ require a royal treatment when bathing. There were plenty of sentient claw footed tubs who would have seen to the water remaining at the perfect temperature, and enchanted beautiful brushes which would have delighted in shampooing and brushing her hair. However Belle had urged, then pleaded, then demanded, bathing was something she was more comfortable doing alone despite how gracious her hosts were being, and even if it was considered luxury to be assisted.

            This constantly brought a pang of disappointment to Madame Gabrielle, who would have delighted in nothing more than washing and prepping a fine young mademoiselle to perfection. The Madame had been the castle’s finest lady’s maid (who had ended up mostly serving guests, and Adam’s female paramours once the Queen had passed on) and was now a vanity set, who used her four narrow legs to get around with somewhat ease. Despite her constant disagreement with Belle over doing her job, they had arrived at the compromise she could at least prepare the bath for Belle. And so she did, with the finest soaps and shampoos all from within her drawers which had been collecting dust since the curse began. However the bath itself was Belle’s time, in a non-sentient tub.

            One of the castle’s oldest rooms, which had been a bathhouse in medieval times, served perfectly for this occasion. The stone floor was warmed by the flames of the kitchen below, and the tub itself, was embedded into the floor keeping the water warmer as it was closer to its heat source. Cogsworth had raised a great fuss when he first heard the idea their ‘honorable guest’ (Lumiere did not let him live that down he’d finally relented to the term) was bathing like a commoner in a public style bath instead of a princess. But to Belle this was an incredible luxury beyond the simple bronze basin she’d grown up with, that she herself would have to fill each time a full bath was needed, and then squeeze into and rush to enjoy before the water become too chilly. This to her was certain luxury, such time alone relaxing in a warm quiet room, in a bath so large she could swim in it.

            Now she understood why nobility and the elite took full baths so often if this was what it could be like. Even as much as Madame Gabrielle’s persistent desire to assist had annoyed her, she had grown grateful for the woman for after each bath she felt she had never smelt better (vanilla and lavender were the most common scents the Madame used) nor felt more relaxed. Now that bathing was not such a rushed chore she would lounge in it as the staff had so urged her, and had even taken to reading during it. It was the first time she had been able to return to her book since the intervention which had forcefully dragged from the library. True she was still tired, which was evident as she gave a yawn-but pursuing a book on Greek myths she was already familiar with would not “strain her” as all the older women seemed to keep warning her.

            “Honestly…they act as though reading is harmful…”Belle muttered drowsily herself as she reclined on edge of the bath to thumb through the book which rested on the tiled floor. Aphrodite and Helen, Athena and Medusa, Poseidan and Odysseus,…she had heard all of these before and groaned once more. “None of these speak of breaking enchantments of the Gods though, most of them simply die or live miserably...” She grumbled. Once more she was nearly falling asleep even to the book’s eloquent translation, and fine illustrations when turning the page she was snapped awake. It was the story of Zeus and Leda, with a rather blunt image of a woman receiving a swan between her legs. Of course she had read the story before (Zeus taking the form of a swan to seduce mortal woman)-but seeing it so illustrated gave a new weight. Belle stared a bit longer than she meant at the idea, as it briefly crossed her mind, her sexual antics had not been _this_ odd at least. The longer she dwelled on it and read through the story the more unsettling it became as she quickly flipped to the next tale, which made her heart jump up into her throat.

Zeus and Antiope, and the accompanying image was the most explicit yet. Antiope reclined completely bare upon a stump in the forest receiving Zeus very vividly. As Belle continued stressing to Adam, she was not ignorant, she had seen animals consummate, and even twice passed couples being less than discreet outside the tavern at night-but what made the color rush to her face was Zeus’ form as a satyr. He held Antiope as he thrust within her, half-man, half-beast, hooves and horns, but a man’s sexual organ and serene expression. Belle turned away from the book violently as if it really could bite her.

            “Oh mon etoiles…” She mumbled in embarrassment as she sank down into the water to her chin. Consummation was something usually far from her mind. It was a required biological function humans needed to reproduce she told herself. And it was often violent, messy, and quick as she had read in the various bawdy materials she had collected since her adolescent years. That, and when townspeople were not gossiping about her, and instead choosing to ignore her, she heard plenty complaining about their marriage beds as an uncomfortable, or disappointing, or simply tedious duty. Therefore between all of her research she was able to reach the medium conclusion it was most likely an fast-finished itch between impulsive, or indulgent people, that or an often monotonous sometimes unappealing duty between marriage partners. Which was really a shame, because when she had begun to feel beneath her own skirts she had discovered the most positive pleasure; to which she thanked the anatomy book she had been given as a birthday gift, not any licentious novels which she imagined were written by the aforementioned impulsive type of men.

            “But now you are one of those impulsive ones with a need to indulge Belle…”She shamefully reminded herself as just thinking about Adam’s hands upon her could create a tingle along her sex. And therein lied the issue which complicated this whole mess even more. She hated how illogical it made her feel-but even more so what was her strange condition to be feeling desire like this; when he wasn’t even human. It was already looked down on for normal unmarried women to desire human men. But what did this mean for her, desiring a man who wasn’t entirely a man? She didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole investigating her own dysfunctions.

            However as her eyes looked back at the blissful image of Antiope it was hard to ignore the woman’s expression of pleasure, and peace. This was not an assault upon her like so many novels described consummation. Antiope had both her arm and leg around the beast man, showcasing an unbridled invitation for the actions, how unheard of. Her mind drifted back to Adam, she would have never imagined wanting a man to touch her, men were usually so demanding, crass, and unkept. But Adam was bashful, he smelt lovely, he was well-read, he was so cautious with his touch, he didn’t see her as something he was entitled to…a beast with more manners than a man. Perhaps if Mousier Gaston were ugly he would have half the discretion Adam did.

            “Oh Adam…” Belle sighed softly. “What a mess I have made…” Once more her eyes drifted back to the image, and within the warm water her hand wandered over her thighs. The longer she observed the more she found herself imagining herself in Antiope’s position. Legs spread to receive pleasure as her supernatural partner invaded delightfully. It hadn’t occurred to her that her hands were between her own thighs, until her well practiced fingers awakened a tremor of pleasure within. They spread open the mons pubis, past the soft protective layer of hair (she so recited the parts in her mind which removed the shame from the act), down to the nymphae (it never dawned on her what an ironic Greek name) the tiny folds of skin giving way to her most sensitive nerves.

            This was the usual process of the pleasure, she marveled in the structure of her body and allowed its’ capabilities to sail her off to a land of calm. This was the first time another’s presence was interrupting this usually sacred, singular time. What would it be like to be thrust into like Antiope? It had been described as agony, or bliss, and even something unnoticeable. Her curious fingers left the usual position of the rubbing up and down the slippery crevice, to venture pressing one within herself.

It didn’t feel like much of anything. There wasn’t acute pleasure like some books would describe but at least it wasn’t pain. She dared to press it deeper, finding it easy enough to slip into the warm cavern as her thoughts had already excited and lubricated the tunnel. To her disappointment, this didn’t engage much a feeling in her, despite how tense and longing the thoughts and images in her mind were making her body.

            Then her mind drifted to the place she had been restricting from with non-stop reading. Adam’s deep voice, huskier than usual whispering to her ‘It would be an answer to a prayer’. How she had felt that warm massive hand, or paw-what did it matter, cupping her entire mound, and when the rough texture of the pads of his palm came into contact with the delicate clitoris-the friction had been otherworldly. Her other hand went within the water during these thoughts to recreate the sensation in vain. What was she trying to preserve playing coy, she wanted that touch again-that voice in her ear, the hot breath against her face and neck. Was this what it felt like to desire another person the way the Gods did mortals-was this kind of frenzied need why they went to the extremes of taking any form to please their lover? Or maybe she was the mortal, leaving the world of men in search of a divine animal lover. How lucky to be Leda, Antiope, or Europa, women perhaps leaving the world of brutal and inattentive men for divine beasts.

            It was suffocating, her thoughts propelled her fingers to feverishly rub pulling the folds up and down across her aching clitoris, then rock her hips in return to her frenzied imagination. The finger within, grew bolder and searched for areas to rub along the warm, tender walls. The combination of stimulus was increasing the pleasure across her as she began to feel dizzy from the heat. It was impossible to know if it was her own body or the water. As her back was arching-she stole another glimpse at the image at her side and it somehow catapulted the sensation over the edge leading to a strong climax, legs shivering, face contorting and biting down her lip so not to alert the entire castle.

            Belle collapsed deeper into the bath, submerging her head for a moment, then sliding up in hopes of regaining some sanity and breath. It had never been like that, she didn’t want to contemplate how increased the pleasure and eventual release had been with the invitation of another person in her mind. Now the steam of the room and bath was too much, and with a sense of hasty sobriety, she slammed the book shut and hopped out of the water seeking to clothe herself quickly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovely Readers! My goodness, thank you, thank you, thank you, for all the kind comments so far. I mostly write to combat my depression and anxiety-and the comments you've all been leaving truly make my day and touch my heart. 
> 
> Here is the image Belle was looking at if you're curious :) It is from around 1585 by Agostino Carracci (He has a lot of erotic art if you're interested)  
> 
> 
>    
> Also! If you're even more curious, here the anatomy book I based Belle's own copy off. You can pretend she's reading all this French since sadly I can not speak anymore than a few phrases of French. https://archive.org/details/anatomyofhumanbo1741ches 
> 
> I really appreciate hearing peoples' feedback and hope to update about once a week!
> 
> If you'd like to show your support or for more notes & updates on my writing, art, and fantasy inspirations check out my tumblr:  
> http://senoraluna.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter V

“Hmph I have not seen such blatant disarray in a time now…” disapproved Cogsworth, as he shrewdly examined the state of the library which Belle had left behind. For once he was not exaggerating by his anal standards. Ink splotches were smeared along nearly every surface, parchment seemed to be piled and sticking out of every crevice, and books were scattered in mountains and monuments as though she’d attempted to construct a fortress.

            “She is trying to break the curse, I do not care if it means she covers the entire castle in soot and bile.” Plumette replied shrewdly, taking in the room to survey what would be required of her staff.

            “Mademoiselle Babineaux! There is no need for such vulgar exaggerations. Honestly, you are a fine lady, and if we are to be human again soon you should keep in mind your practice of decorum.” bolstered Cogsworth as Plumette fluttered ahead of him.

            “Mousier Cogsworth, we can not be human again if you choose to disrupt her research. Certainly you can be lenient with your standards in light of this incredible opportunity!” She tried to express her excitement gesturing to the notations but the old clock’s expression remained unfazed.

            “I am not looking to dash anyone’s hopes, but we need to be reasonable…we have all toiled away at this for years, and made our best sense of it, the chances she will find anything new that none of us considered-when she knows even _less_ than us, do not put the odds in our favor.” He said this so matter of fact as though alerting her the sun had risen for the day, that Plumette scoffed in dismay.

            “I wonder if you _enjoy_ being a clock sometimes…” She grumbled, as he made a stuttering sound of protest. Plumette began more valiantly “I have lost track of how many years this has gone on-no you don’t need to tell me,” she stopped him as he began with his precise clock accuracy “it would only bring on melancholy. I prefer the ambiguity of the constant winter. But this solution we reached-that someone is to love that selfish, immature, brute, of a man is just as far-fetched as perhaps you see all this as. It was a miracle this girl ever came here-it is a miracle she stays, we can not expect a third miracle she would overlook all of his brutality and somehow love him. He imprisoned her father for God’s sake!” Cogsworth seemed to be adjusting an imaginary uniform he shifted uncomfortably at Plumette’s far too logical speech. “That and she is terribly bright, even to your standards if you would speak to her more often you would see that. This-“ Plumette gestured to the distraught library, “is our greatest chance for a third miracle.” Cogsworth sighed heavily, he envied her a moment. The girl’s optimism and tact, he could see what Lumiere saw in her. Finally, with more levity he responded.

            “Mademoiselle, I appreciate the good will and belief in you put in this case,” The man spoke like a concerning relative now, instead of her flustered supervisor. “But I want to warn you that putting so much stalk in things that are…less than likely, can be a deafening experience. I speak of wisdom from my age. Now I am not discouraging Mademoiselle Belle, but I do not think it will benefit anyone to put the faith of God in her.” Plumette seemed ready to protest but the man tutted to silence her, and proceeded on. “This is not a critique on her character…I simply mean the sorrow of one’s failed hopes can be a soft death in one’s life. I am now a wise measured man-but there was many a time in my youth I once I fell folly to the prospect of unreasonable aspirations.” He hesitated as if debating the correct way to censure his experience, then seemingly gave up.

            “What are you trying to say?” Plumette asked more patiently.  

            “That…that I recognize certain kinds of um…love takes many miracles, and…it is very rare they come to be. Especially when they are this unconventional.” For once there was a note of sorrow in the man’s normally mild mannered and condescending or anxious tone. Before Plumette could press him to further divulge he spoke once more in his authoritative tone, in hopes to erase any exposed vulnerability. “Mademoiselle I should hate to see you and the rest of the staff be cut down by sorrow. And, placing all bets on a simple solution, the odds are not in our favor.” For once Plumette believed his sentiment and took a momentary pause.

            “You sound like Lumiere…”

            “Lumiere? Surely you’re mistaken.” Cogsworth nearly stammered the reply, as if the idea of Lumiere losing his bright optimism was a horrific prospect.

            “No, he too is beginning to fret over this girl.” The woman sighed and fluttered over some of Belle’s research. “Maybe you men forget a woman is capable of doing more than simply dusting or brewing your tea though.” She replied with a bolder tone-as if daring to chastise her employer. She waited for the scolding from Cogsworth but instead the old man seemed at a loss, the sound of his ticking being the only noise between them. Finally, after a moment’s deliberation he replied more measuredly, and resuming his pomp and order.

            “Very well I won’t dismiss all your hopes if that is the case.” Plumette could have done a dance for joy at her victory, startled by her own power for a moment. “However I am not about to leave the castle in this state, that will only cause further misery if we let things fall to more ruin. Have your ladies see the floors mopped and surely some of this parchment is ruined beyond measure and can be tinder.”

            “And what if we ruin something important?”

            “Mademoiselle does this really look like the laboratory or study of a great professor to you?” He replied indelicately. “It looks more like the aftermath of a drunken spree and I thought that nonsense would be over since the Master could no longer host such vile, intoxicated, Dionysian, frolics.”

            “Now you are simply exaggerating-this would only take a few hours to clean, we would simply have to institute the footmen…” She mentally cataloged those with appendages who could manage to lift up the scattered books.

            “Well I hardly care who does it at this point, I do not want the Master walking in to this rubbish and seeing-“

            “What would I be seeing?” The deep intimidating tone of the Beast interrupted the conversation, as he strode through the open doors of the disheveled library. Cogsworth nearly fell off the desk he was so alarmed. He mentally began his prayers that his Dionysian comment had not been overheard, and while struggling to put together a reply Plumette was already seizing her opportunity.

            “Master!” She gave an informal bow mid-air to Adam, as he nodded casually knowing she must want something to be putting on such formal airs. After years of being confined together as the curse rolled on, the majority of his staff had waned in their propriety and boundaries with him. And in all fairness he had done the same with them. Firstly in depressed apathy after becoming such a strange creature that hardly seemed princely-and then in an absent-minded resignation due to their isolation from the world. After all as he’d said to Belle, what did titles and pomp matter if they were all trapped in such enchanted states?

            “Plumette…” he replied testily, awaiting her request.

            “I am pleased you are here, I was just discussing with Mousier Cogsworth the efforts of Mademoiselle Belle. It is such an _incredible_ opportunity for us, it would surely be waste to disrupt it all for the sake of keeping the library unnecessarily formal.”

            “No-Now Master!” Cogsworth had found his voice, not about to be misrepresented, “I am seeking a tidy and logical house which keeps everyone in a state of calm-as we discussed the other morrow we do not want anyone becoming too…obsessive with particular uncertain prospects.” He chose his words carefully but Adam seemed to breeze straight past him as if he hadn’t spoken at all. Carefully so not to smear the ink or rip the already crinkled parchment he began to skim a few of Belle’s notes next to a large alchemy volume titled “Coelvm philosophorvm, sev, Liber de secretis naturae”. He couldn’t help but let out a small scoff,

            “Of course she reads Latin…” He half whispered under his breath. Plumette and Cogsworth eagerly awaited a reply-but he seemed so engrossed it appeared they would not receive one, until after a moment he appeared to remember they were there. “Do not fret over the library, I will tidy and order it.” He might as well have snarled at them both, they were staring as if they had mutually had their ears blown out. Adam sighed heavily, recognizing he would have never normally offered to clean unless he were in an especially defeated or good mood. “I told Belle I would assist her with this research-so I’ll…tidy and…what not.” He tried to say dismissively, waving his paw in a hope he could prod away some of this startled attention. Plumette was all too pleased at the prospect, unsure which was better; her Master behaving decently without prompting or being spared such extensive work.

            “Merci beaucoup Master.” The young woman gasped sincerely, and before he could change his mind, or Cogsworth could debate, she flew out the door. Cogsworth finally found his words as Adam continued though Belle’s Alchemy pile

            “Master…you are…in support of this-…” He struggled for a word for the great mess.

            “What is the harm in it? Honestly Cogsworth after all of these years what is the point of maintaining this façade of etiquette as though the court will suddenly show up at our doorstep. We’re nearly spectral at this point, she could possibly be on the verge of what we need.” Despite the words Adam appeared only half-interested as he began to attempt to consolidate the book towers upon the desk.

            “The curse implies-!”

            “The curse implies nothing, all we have are our own interpretations.” Adam replied flippantly.

            “Master, I recognize the prospect of convincing a woman to love what you are is daunting, but there is no reason to shrink from the challenge just because it is finally before you. Love is not as simple as you young people chose to define at times.”

            “And suddenly you are speaking to me about love…I did not realize you took leaves from Lumiere’s book.” Adam scoffed.

            “I am not speaking fatuously like Lumiere on the subject!” Cogsworth protested vainly, for Adam stopped listening, having uncovered the Enchanted Book. The transporting volume did not appear to have been touched since their ill turned adventure to Paris. Cogsworth finally took notice and let out a gasp of alarm.

            “You forgot to lock it up?!” He said in a hushed startled whisper. Adam silently picked up the book, although he did not outwardly chastise himself like his majordomo, his eyes conveyed all of his flabbergast the book had been sitting out the open. “Master that is just careless, she could have touched it at any time…” Cogsworth said more calmly, but alarm still in his voice.

            “Why didn’t she…” Adam said under his breath, more to himself but still received a response.

            “Philosophizing over her mindset will not lead to any swift or concreate conclusions.” Cogsworth added hastily. “Perhaps she has a better respect for order than I would have guessed.”

            “Leave me, I’ll return it to the West Wing when I have finished sorting this room.”

            “But Master-.”

            “I assure you Cogsworth I will not make such a mistake again.” The statement was more to get rid of his far too fretful head of house, than his own sentiment. Flustered and clearly exhausted Cogsworth finally quit the room for his own sanity. Once alone, Adam did not continue his task of cleaning but sank down into an armchair before the fire. Still clutching the enchanted book, he thumbed over the still unlocked clasps, then cracked it open as if unable to believe he had the right book. Within the glittering light of the enchanted map illuminating his face. It was indeed the right volume-he shut it harshly, the thought of the world too painful. It had been here all along yet it seemed she did not even attempt to flee.

            “Going somewhere?” The sweet voice made him nearly jump from the seat. Belle, well rested, washed, and in now a clean pair of skirts and jacket crept in behind him. He could smell the scents of a recent bath on her, and realized he must have become so brooding with his thoughts his senses were mute to her intrusion. It only made her unexpected presence all the more enriching now, for eyes, nose, and ears.

            “I did not hear you come in-…what do you mean?”

            “You have that special book in your hand.” She gestured innocently enough but he looked down as though caught in an obscene act.

            “No…I was…” He cleared his throat reminding himself there was no reason to be nervous of this girl. “You look much better than when we last met. I trust Mrs.Potts force-fed you?”

            “Nearly so,” Belle said good naturedly as she gave a sigh and quickly turned from his gaze looking about the library. “I do apologize…I hardly realized half the mess I was making.” After the incident in her bath it was easiest to avoid his gaze directly. She had hoped she would have time alone with her notes to prepare a means to distract herself from these indecent thoughts before seeing him once more. To Adam, all he could conclude was the matter of freedom must be on her mind as he clutched the book tightly and searched for a response.

            “On the contrary, the castle is in your debt. All anyone can speak of is their excitement you may break the curse.”

            “Well…I do appreciate the trust in my efforts,” She was genuinely flattered, and moved by the kindness of the household once again. “However I hope everyone will hold their praise until I make substantial progress…”

            “I highly doubt in all of this you achieved no progress.” Adam gestured to some of the piles he had organized upon the table. Belle strode past him, the tension between them growing as she lifted her notes to better process them with a more-rested mind. Adam contemplated stepping out-that was the right thing to do. Return to the West Wing and lock away the enchanted book. Yet even taking a single step back from her required an uncomfortable force of will that he became rooted to the spot. For a moment it felt as though he could picture the young prince he had been shouting at himself-all of the servants as well pleading at his feet. Yet he stared at her back, waiting for her to turn around and question him. He waited for her to stop him, but she did not. Belle was lost in her own confusion and half hoped he would leave her be as well. And so what happened next Adam was not sure if he was making the greatest mistake or first selfless thing in his life.

            “…I want you to know, I would not force your return were you to go.” Belle was so absorbed in her notes she barely appeared to register what he said and did not even turn to him.

            “I’m sorry, what?”

            “This book…from the enchantress, I saw you left it untouched. You did not try to leave this place using it.” The words awakened Belle from her meditative state, and echoed in her ears before she turned to him. The entire meaning of the conversation seemed to visibly cross her face as she looked at him with attentive and startled eyes, mouth slightly ajar as she struggled for her own words. Adam forced himself to go on. “I would not pursue you-nor would anyone under my control, were you to choose to go.” How humiliating he felt his hands nearly quiver at these words. Part of him earnestly believed she would drop everything and disappear out the door. The seconds felt like an hour before she finally found her voice.

            “I…did not imagine you would.” Belle said softly, realizing it aloud.

            “Then you thought it too dangerous to touch?” Adam was now perplexed by her, wondering if she was being mocking or lying.

            “No…” Belle was now meeting his gaze and it was especially hard when he was being so amiable-truly showing her he was not the creature she first beheld on her first evening here which filled her with loathing. “…I, said I wanted to help everyone here. I meant it. And I meant what I said on the bridge I want to see this curse broken. Surely in our age of reason it is an achievable feat.”

            “You…are choosing to remain.” He could hardly understand what was happening, relief was washing over him, as Belle averted her gaze-was she blushing for some reason?

            “Well-…yes for now. I am not one to give up on my word.” She hesitated, startled herself by the amount of relief she felt in knowing he did not see her as his captive, and the friendliness between them was not some farce. “I imagine I could deduce this within a few weeks time…”

            “Of course.” He added more gruffly, hiding his own joy at her extended company and stifling any hints of sadness at the prospect of her departure. “You have a life to return to, a future and ambitions and such…” He added dismissively. Belle felt a jab to these words, she did not like to contemplate that notion of her future in Villeneuve as she knew it eventually led that she would be forced to marry. Papa would never force a suitor on her, but he could not live forever. Often she contemplated moving to the city, surely she would be able to find work as a governess, or a teacher even. She had read many accounts too, of women who composed pseudonyms to do men’s work. Perhaps she could even find some open minded scientists intrigued with the prospect of a female pupil-but her thoughts always cut short. The idea of leaving Papa alone after all he had done for her was heart-breaking. And he possessed such a fear of seeing her in the city (which she could finally understand after knowing her Mother’s death) she could not even imagine going after his death for the dishonor it would do to his last wishes. And that meant remaining in Villeneuve. And remaining in Villeneuve meant eventual marriage-she was already getting quite old for a marriageable age. Belle exhaled anxiously, dismissing the thoughts, recognizing Adam was about to depart.

            “Thank you.” She said suddenly. “And for this, for organizing this all. It seems you are more hopeful than you dared to seem.”

            “Well you, went to all this effort…” He added caught off guard and trying once again to be dismissive. “I did say I would assist…” He paused on his feet a moment looking at her from across the room, the relief of her remaining-her autonomy and lack of fear for him-his mind was jumping back to the feeling of her in his arms-he wanted badly to remove himself before the thoughts went further. 

            “You have very much.”

            “…I advise you to not work yourself to death again, your efforts should not be an act of martyrdom.”

            “I will be more moderate in my efforts…” There was a momentary pause, and then he departed the room swiftly. Belle brought her hands to her cheeks-they were warm. She sank down to the wooden chair beside the desk with a soft groan. Was every interaction with him going to be this awkward from now on? All tinged- -from her shameful behavior in the bath even when they should be purely touching just as now. “Damn it Belle…” she muttered to herself. Slowly she slouched against the desk processing everything which had just gone on. Part of her had assumed she was no longer a prisoner the moment she chose to make her return helping Adam with his wounds, instead of taking the chance to flee. But to hear it so bluntly, it was nearly impossible to concentrate on her notes.

            Never in her life, had she been given such an outpouring of compassion and understanding. She tried to imagine if she had taken on such an intellectual course within the village-it would have only met her with scorn. She hated to admit it-part of her _was_ comfortable here. It was impossible to say she only remained purely because she wanted to see the curse broken and these kind people saved. It was such a strange relief to live in a place where all of this-she looked at her notes, her reading, her quest, it wasn’t just accepted-but praised. Guilt lingered over her, was Papa sick with worry? She had promised him she was capable and able to escape. And now this-this guilty pleasure she’d experienced from her time here.

            “I’m so sorry Papa…” She whispered reclining her head to the table with a sigh. This was ridiculous, melancholy and sulking was no solution for anything. This library was unlike anything she had ever seen-so surely it was capable of holding the answers she required. With a sharp inhale she sat up. “We will organize all of this…and then…Adam could assist and…” her mental organization trailed off to the other struggle. Adam couldn’t exactly help her if she was too embarrassed to look at him directly. “You are going to be deliberate…and confront this…anomaly. Express your barriers, confess your…struggles…and then you can both move on.” She attempted to reassure herself, but the prospect of confessing something so shameful made her stomach coil into itself. “…You can do this…” she timidly reassured herself.

            Adam placed, or more aptly, slammed the enchanted book back within his boudoir where it if normally remained. It wasn’t as if the other servants were capable of using it-or that he would even try to stop them if they wished to depart. It was a part of the ‘rules’ which had been established by Cogsworth in all his logic that it being such a powerful item, it was dangerous to tamper with. Belle was truly a separate entity. Unlike all the women and men he’d carried on little affairs with-or his so called friends, she was not here out of something she could gain from him or his status. She wanted to help-what a strange selfless girl. The hunger in his mind instantly kept trying to leap forward to urge him to action. There you are, it said, she is no prisoner nor under obligation: You could indulge in this hunger for her.

            Just the thought made his breeches suddenly the smallest bit more restrictive. Shamefully he entertained the idea of briefly indulging the need for a release. Then quickly he looked at his form and sank down in pure frustration. Since taking on this form the years had given him time to recognize how it heightened all of his senses. If a conversation took place several rooms away he could hear it. When a fire was lit anywhere within a wing his nose would detect it. And it seemingly increased his primal instincts, hunger was one. His appetite increased, and if he dared to ignore it in a fit of melancholy it returned with a fearsome vengeance the following day that it would feel impossible to appease. And now-now that there was finally another beautiful body around him, he was beginning wonder if it would be similar for the carnal appetite of man.

            It wasn’t as though he’d endured all the years of this curse without having a single male reaction. There were plenty of times-especially in the beginning when adjusting to these new senses, this new body, he would awaken from an especially erotic dream and find his member at full attention. And while still in that dreamy state of arousal he would attend to his pleasure even with the clumsy large hands he possessed now. Attempting to ignore it just left him in a state of agitation and frantic distraction the entire day. What frightened him was how it could become if he dared to allow himself pass to contemplate Belle in this way. Would he be able to handle looking at her-their conversations-without longing for more of her? This Beast could barely control his anger, he shuddered to consider what it would do with it’s arousal. Had she noticed his strange behavior? “Bon Dieu…” he grunted forcing himself to take a seat before his pacing did ruin the carpet. He was educated, he was a prince, he had managed to be diplomatic-he would find a way to be diplomatic about all of this and practice more manners than he’d ever bothered with while human.

            When Mrs.Pott’s came by to warn Belle supper would be ready in an hour and her attendance was expected (which was a nice way of saying ‘demanded’ less she wanted to be carried out of the library by sentient carts) Belle took pause asking if she could take a late tea before the meal began. Beatrice was more than glad to provide, and when Belle sheepishly requested if someone could invite Adam to join her-the woman was even more pleased.

The knock on his chamber door had nearly sent Adam to the ceiling, but when he learnt it was just his valet Ambrose (Now a sentient elegant vibrant throw pillow who with the use of the many tassels was still at times able to assist his Master in getting ready) inviting him to afternoon tea per Belle-it seemed the perfect opportunity to remedy their awkward parting. He then startled everyone when he came directly to the kitchens and announced he would bring the tea tray himself. Rolling his eyes at the incredulous exclamations of the kitchen staff, he departed swiftly with the tray in his massive hands.

            When Adam entered alone, Belle shot up from her desk as though she were in some sort of formal setting which she could only deign the manners from the glimmers in her various readings throughout the years. He cleared his throat, recalling his own many lessons on manners and placed the tray down carefully on one of the end tables.

            “Good Evening…I was told you were asking for me…” This was ridiculous, he loathed how awkward she could make him feel. If he was a man he wouldn’t be behaving this sheepishly-but then again he’d probably be much more obnoxious as well. The prince, days ago, would have spouted some stupid rehearsed line of poetry to her, offered a string of pearls, and persuaded her to his bed. Again he felt horrified embarrassment to have been so shamelessly coercive. Circling around he tried to let some of his pride go at this awkward situation.

            “I was-thank you for coming. I was hoping we could speak.”

            “Go…right ahead.” They were simply staring at one another again-and she was blushing. Had he somehow upset her when carrying her from the library? Instantly his stomach sank, nearly obliterating any lingering lustful fancies about her. Belle looked around, then gestured to the two plush armchairs facing the fire place.

            “Perhaps we could sit first.” ‘Damn it Belle stop sounding so timid’, she chastised herself as she took an awkward side step to the red upholstered chair. Adam gave a nod of compliance and set the tea on the high end table between the two chairs. More uncertain silence followed as they each took one of the tea cups. She had a long drink as if it would somehow provide liquid courage like a shot. Adam observed this curiously while simply playing along-the cup in his enormous paws practically was a shot. Finally he cleared his throat to press her onward if she was about to chastise him he would prefer if she got it over with.

            “I imagine this is about yesterday.” He began gruffly. Belle hesitated and set her cup down carefully. “Or I misspoke earlier somehow?” he sighed with further aggravation. “Belle I-…” there was a pause; keep the beast in check…don’t lash out… “I am out of practice for conversation with one as yourself-.”

            “One as myself?” Belle was jarred from her own thoughts as she gave him an awkward look. Adam nearly groaned and waved his free hand dismissively.

            “Not-…one of my servants. We’ve been walled up together so long we often forget decent manners and-and that other people do not understand our situation nor typical interactions.” He scanned her face to see if any of this was registering and attempted once more to back peddle with a low growl of frustration. “I am going in circles. Let me be frank, I am doing all in my power to recall my decorum as though you are the finest princess of France but sometimes I-yes I’ll put it in writing if you want-I make foolish, crude mistakes and am not giving you the utmost respect you deserve.” This was not as humiliating as he’d feared, but again she was staring at him, her eyes clearly calculating the situation like a mathematician’s whizzing fingers over an abacus. They reached a conclusion that somehow she looked humiliated and set down her tea cup in her lap.

            “…I am not a princess Adam.” She said softly. It almost offended him as he retorted fiercely.

            “Oh do not get hung up on titles and breeding! I am speaking of manners and ladies-.”

            “I am not. I recognize your meaning, I recognize you speak of treating me delicately, as a lady of fine birth-…as you said I am more flower than animal.” Still her eyes were downcast. He paused in his desire to argue mouth ajar-then snapped it shut now also trying to make sense of her words.

            “And that…bothers you?” He finally managed in his confusion.

            “No, on the contrary I am truly flattered, it is my own conduct I am embarrassed by.” Belle said in a near whisper he could only thank his supernatural hearing for catching. “I am a farmgirl, I am an artist’s daughter…I am smart, and quick, and not naïve but…decorum,” She laughed dryly, “I…already do many things in my village which make the polite women gasp in horror. You should know there have been multiple times women in the village had come to our door to warn my Father about my conduct. Saying I was on the path to become a fallen woman, or tempted by Satan. How utterly improper, and…obscene I could even be at times. I am not ignorant of my lapses, I know very well walking about with my skirts tucked in my pocket and exposing my drawers is extremely immodest in most circles. But I suppose I was never bothered by that choice because I found the benefits and freedoms far more rewarding than the judgements of men and villagers I did not care for.” Belle squeezed the cup in her hand, it felt like a lump was in her throat making every word harder than the last. “It is only now that I finally know people whose option of me I would value-and I fear are above me to judge me, I…I finally feel the shame that all of Villeneuve always wished I would.” It was impossible to look at him-her face felt hotter than the roaring fire in front of them.

            “Belle,” Adam couldn’t keep quiet as he put his cup down so roughly that it nearly shattered and the tea splattered along his shirt sleeves. Inhaling he vainly tried to control his anger. “Did they lecture you about the library? There is nothing to be ashamed about-it is a damned library! It was collecting dust until you arrived. Who chastised you-I will be having a word with them this-!”

            “-Adam please.” Belle finally managed an ironic smile and to look his way for a brief moment. Those blue eyes were staring at her in a way that made her thoughts race which only brought on further shame. It was so strange to have a friend who was so accepting and defensive of her behaviors, and it somehow gave her the courage to be honest. “I am not speaking of the library, I am speaking of-of our night together.” She inhaled more courage. “In my chambers.” Realization crossed his features and now he was turning away clearing his throat to hide embarrassment, and pray pray pray to God he could control the impulses in his body conjured by that memory.

            “I thought I already told you there is nothing to be ashamed of.” Came a quick frantic mutter from him.

            “It is not the _night!_ ” She sighed in frustration. “It is that I can not stop thinking of you in that-…that sort of…” she grew more flustered searching for words. “I suppose lustful way is the word!” she blurted and inhaled sharply biting her lip as she did everything in her power to keep from running away. Several feelings sprung upon Adam in a second of sequence. Relief; she was not punishing herself for their actions which he himself had long ago decided propriety be damned about. Shock; she was thinking about him-him in this great beastly form, with desire? Need; if his breeches were uncomfortable before suddenly it was though his waiting sexual organ had been seeking the magic words to spring to life. Grabbing the tea cup and saucer in a moment of panic he quickly held it in front of his lap for an excuse to hide any reaction that her confession was summoning. “Damn it, please say something…” her sheepish demand brought him back to the present moment as she sat on the edge of her chair looking at him with the same vulnerability she had in the snow.

            “You…” he cleared his throat, his voice more raspy with desire than he meant it and made an attempt to speak measuredly. “You feel ashamed…because you find yourself feeling desire for me,” he could barely believe his own words, and had to clarify this was not one of his erotic dreams “lustful desire.”

            “Yes,” And Belle too inhaled to speak in a more confident manner. “And it is just-distracting me from all my efforts to help you all with this curse, and I have been struggling to look you in the eye and that is just rude on my part, because this afternoon meant so much to me-so I had to tell you the truth of this all in hopes of getting past it-because I…do not know what else I can do as I said I am not familiar with these feelings!” She waved her hand and took another drink of tea in hope she would silence herself from making the situation any worse. Now it was his turn to be brave as he inhaled forcing himself to look upon her.

            “Then…let it lessen your shame I am having the same circumstances…” Belle nearly spit her drink back out and brought the back of her had to her mouth as she coughed. “Sorry I-.-“

            “I thought…I thought this sort of thing was typical for you, and not worth sparing a second thought upon?” She managed to sputter out between coughs. Adam gave that boyish shrug she found a mixture of annoying and endearing.

            “…I have not been in a situation like this in a very long time and, I feel you misunderstand your lapse of decorum is not off-putting to me but all the more…hum-…thought-provoking. And this…” He tried to find the words, “I am a Beast-.”

            “Adam no-“

            “Let me elaborate,” He gave her a flustered look as he rolled his eyes. “I feel far more intensely my senses than you, I can smell the soaps from your bath, I can smell the supper they are preparing right now. It is roast duck. I can hear the mopping going on outside this room…you have studied biology and naturalism I can infer?”

            “Yes…” She nodded slowly. “So you speak of, like a deer can hear the soft brush of leaves or a hunting hound could trace a distant scent?”

            “Yes, and like an animal desperate to indulge in its needs for survival I feel my own amplified, and along with that comes-eh-…”

            “Procreation?” Belle posed carefully now just as embarrassed as he.

            “Ah…yes, I suppose that is the way to say it.” He scratched behind his flattened from embarrassment ears, and once again reminded himself he was _not_ a virgin or boy, this was just a strange different body. They perked back up suddenly as he heard a small single laugh escape her which nearly sounded like an exhale. “Yes yes…it is strange and humorous-.” He began in grumble until she startled him by putting a soft hand upon his shoulder.

            “I am not laughing at you…I am, I am just so relieved! I thought this was purely one sided on my part or there was something especially odd about me to be so transfixed after such a fleeting experience.” He managed a half smile to this and gave her a judgmental look.

            “I already told you, I put no care in the idea of sins of the flesh or what not…” He said in an effort to be more comforting now; she was inexperienced after all, how strange it must all be for her. That and her hand-he kept his hand firmly rooted in his lap for dear life she would not recognize what was happening. “You really think of me, as this Beast, in that way?”

            “You’re the only man I have ever considered in this way.” She said softly. “I…” She hesitated. “I wonder if I should put a stop to my tongue before I cross such a line of vulgarity in our friendship that I can not retreat.” A meek smile crossed his face, if only Cogsworth were here-well no, that would be horrid-but the man would surely delight in recalling all of the debase situations he had lectured the young prince about being in.

            “Belle, whatever thoughts are passing your mind I assure you it can not offend me.” He nearly laughed at the prospect-but kept it to a mere smile for her benefit. “On the contrary after all of the ridiculous things I’ve done…I’m shocked you can ever think of me in such a way.” The thought was sobering as he looked at her, uncertain how to move forward without dismissing the outright cruelty he had displayed.

            “I disliked you very much in the beginning, but I see it clearly now, you were a frightened animal, weren’t you?” She said steadily looking his way as the mood shifted. “You thought we would destroy this didn’t you…I may not know much, but I’ve gathered somehow this enchantment is connected to roses, it would not be connected to petals falling otherwise.” Adam looked down-he exhaled heavily then faced her with a noble integrity.

            “How thankful I am you are a quick and perceptive mind…I am…so very sorry.” He said quietly, then turned away until her hand slid from his forearm and to the top of his knuckles.

            “…I forgive you.” She said realizing she had the moment she said it. They stared at one another, and she took another deep breath. “I appreciate your integrity, and as obnoxious as your temper can be I am pleased you are at least forthright and honest with your options instead of gossiping behind my back like my village or censuring them since I am a woman. That said, I am glad I’ve been able to see the real you, and it is much more than just a frightened animal.” She said tenderly, her fingers running across his knuckles.

            “You do me too much credit, it seems if I had been honest earlier it would have spared you embarrassment.” He spoke more softly, and looked her over gently. “Let me reassure you, in my experience the majority of women I knew in my…as you called them, amorous affairs had similar thoughts like you did-they just took much longer to admit it.”

            “Hmm I believe that is called poise,” Belle added with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “Something I would have benefitted from…”

            “Stop that,” Adam huffed, his fangs clenching as he waved a hand. “This is no matter of lacking poise I assure you. I was bred on good manners and yet my thoughts were probably far more rakish and extended than yours ever were.” This conjured a smile out of her, although she found him to be a painfully honest man (and not exaggerating for her benefit) she couldn’t hide her feelings had manifested beyond thoughts.

            “Oh it was not just thoughts…” Belle mumbled with her nervous dismissive laugh. Adam hesitated, he stared at her a moment trying to make sense of her meaning. Belle bit her tongue a moment then sighed heavily, “I suppose the sooner I clear my conscious the sooner we can enjoy being in a room together without feeling outrageously stiff.” Suddenly she withdrew her hand from his, and kept them to her lap twirling the tea cup in the saucer. “I let my thoughts run away so far that I…found myself, taking my hands to my own pleasure-while thinking of you.” There was a sudden clatter, then crash of glass tinkering to the floor. Belle’s head snapped over in alarm, to see the remains of Adam’s tea cup across the floor. “What happened!” She gasped leaping to her feet.

            “Do not worry!” He struggled for breath, her words had felt like a direct current through his body, as though he’d tripped across a carpet and received a static shock. The instincts were rushing through his body with the severity of a starving man devouring every last morsel off a bone. Was it the Beast or selfish prince that would have taken her in his arms at that moment, do everything he could to seduce her-it was unclear. Belle was already making her way in front of him.

            “You’re bleeding,”

            “It is nothing of concern,” He pressed back into the armchair trying to distance himself as far as possible from her-but it only encouraged her closer-that her knees were nearly against his calves which made it even harder to conjure a calming thought so she would not notice the reaction in his breeches.

            “Stop being so petty,” Belle snapped chasing after his wrist with her hands until she finally caught it. “You have a shard of glass in your palm-will you hold still!”

            “I assure you I can tend to it-“

            “Oh I see, so I disturbed you after all that reassurance you offered?” Came her clearly offended quip.

            “No damn it! I simply do not need a nurse maid at this moment!” He growled back.

            “Then let me _see_ your hand Adam!” With a groan of frustration she finally pried his large fingers open as he relented, not about to anger her further with a sulky disposition. Underneath it, his heart felt as though it had fallen into his stomach. She was much much too close, his breeches were much much too tight and his thoughts were far too vulgar. He had hardly noticed the blood or pain of the glass china shards cutting into his palm; the weight of arousal was much too consuming. With careful precision, so focused on her work, Belle carefully extracted two shard. “See that hardly hurt at all…” Then using a finger she applied pressure to the tiny cut, “Just wait for the blood to clot.”

            “I…” Adam struggled momentarily, words, breath, all of it was a mess. The problem resolved, it seemed to dawn slowly on her how close they were. Seated as he was, she was face to face with him, instead towered over. From this perspective, the haze of arousal within his eyes was apparent, and the blush which had filled her face deepened across the freckles he had found so charming. “You have me quite undone…” He grumbled in admission.

            “I’m…sorry…?” Belle murmured searching for her own words, the eroticism of the moment of his energy setting her completely off-balance.

            “Belle,” He would have laughed if it was at all possible, instead it was a dry half smile. “That is not a compliant on my part…I more mean to…caution you…”

            “I am not afraid nor offended.” She whispered gently. There was a brief moment of their intense gaze on one another before she managed her next query, “Since I was honest I think it only fair you reveal to me what thoughts you were having…” A low agitated growl left him.

            “You are not going to let me out of this are you?”

            “I merely said it was fair,” which very much was a yes from her. Adam looked down, seeming bashful beneath his years which put her at ease she was not dealing with someone who had an upper hand of sensual comfort. “Well Mousier Zeus?”

            “I never said I was Zeus…” he grumbled with a dismissive eye roll of embarrassment. “I am no Lumiere I lack ways with amorous words and seduction…Most of my ‘affairs’ were a recited poem, or a pretty piece of jewelry, then some fumbling in the dark…” Clearly his excuse wasn’t buying him any leniency from her inquisitive eyes, and he forced himself to go on. “How soft your body was in my arms when I carried you up the steps…the incredible way you smelt when my hands were beneath your skirts…” The tenor of his voice was reaching the same low growling rumble like it had that evening in her bed. Belle’s stomach did a leap, though she did not look away from his gaze.

            “You are exaggerating, I have caught the scent on my fingers following those actions, it is very bitter…”

            “Call it animalistic senses, it is, I can not even describe it now-it,…hmprh, I am shocked this is not frightening you away.”

            “On the contrary I am fascinated…”

            “Ever the scientist aren’t you?” He half mocked, but managed to give her one of his relenting dry smiles. His paw more bold brushed strands of hair from her face-running over her bright blushed cheeks. Belle felt herself nearly shiver to the touch, his hand was large enough to nearly cup her entire head.

            “I just…can not help but notice how this is making my skin feel especially warm, and body like I did that evening….” She murmured in a heated whisper.  “You meant what you said that you would be receptive to my further curiosities…?”

            “I dearly _hope_ you have more curiosities…”

            “May I…kiss you?”

            “The fangs could be precarious,” was his rational response but his hand drew her head closer to his own.

            “I can be careful…” Belle answered defiantly, and they were so close he could feel her breath across his lips.

“Then I would…enjoy that…” Before he could think of another reason to be cautious, she leaned forward placing the softest peck of her lips upon him, then immediately leaning back searching his eyes for assurance. “Is that all?”

“I was not seeking to cause discomfort-,” She added with a nervous laugh.

            “Lord knows Belle.”

            “What!”

            “Will you permit me…”

            “I suppose you know more than me in this area…”

            “Is that your means of yes?” She gave a little nod of her head then answered him by leaning forward once more to kiss across his lips, puckering her lips to avoid the protruding fangs at the corners of his mouth. This time she allowed her lips to linger-and he responded in a way that made her heart flutter. His mind barely felt awake, he was kissing her, he felt her soft smooth lips between his own as he leaned into a past rhythm. Using his lips to trace her own, the sensation bringing forth warmth, sparks, like each time they passed one another it was strike of flint to conjure flames in the body. When he finally withdrew for another breath he forced himself to recline to the back of the chair, less he get too overzealous. Instantly self-consciousness took over, as he waited for her recoil in horror at the coarse feel of his lips-the fur, the fangs.

            “…Goodness…” Belle whispered, her eyes seeming quite stunned for what they had just practiced. It had created warmth like one of the lovely baths in her chest. Adam’s doubts were washed away, for she leaned forward tentatively, the tilt of her head asking permission to try again. Instantly he accepted, and this time relief coursing through him, was able to indulge, close his eyes and be lost in the act of kissing for the first time in what felt like a century. Again he traced her mouth with his own, feeling a prickle of delight when this turn she mimicked the action drawing her mouth along his-even carefully brushing the fangs as though it was perfectly normal. The fur tickled her nose and cheeks, and it only invited more sparks of sensation through her curious body as she stepped closer, her free hand cupping his cheek. Without thinking he parted his legs to draw her into an embrace as she stood before him, longing to extend out this kiss for the rest of his days as Beast, for it was easily the most fantastic sensation since his transformation. Surely he was an adolescent again, lost in the idea of kissing a pretty girl or boy for hours like he’d found some secret of life.

            When the pressure of her leg brushed against the protruding point in his breeches, it was like a bucket of ice water on the delightful moment. With a frantic gasp, he recoiled as though she’d bit him, and cleared his throat quickly trying to distract her.

            “We should be on our way to supper or they will look for us.” The words left his mouth in a strange slur he spit them out so quickly. Letting go of her warm body felt like a man deprived of his jacket in a snow storm. Belle however lingered, and her own needs only brought her step closer when he pressed back into the armchair to vainly create distance between them.

            “And here I thought you were enjoying that along with me…?” She rose a curious brow, and he again poshly cleared his throat.

            “I was…but…the…staff and…such…” Adam was speaking in his poorly articulated excuse voice. Belle’s brows instantly perked inquisitively and he knew his fate was sealed. It only took another step on her part to brush against his poorly hidden arousal-that this time she noticed, and her eyes ventured downward.

            “Oh-…oh!” Instantaneously her head did a double take, where the logical side of her mind recognized what was happening-and then the rest of her as the expression across her face became momentarily wide-eyed before she let him go and stepped away. “Apologies, for, knocking…” She was struggling for words while he struggled to find an angle in the chair to make his need less visible.

            “I-,” This was again humiliating, he may as well be fifteen years old. Perhaps he was trapped in some sort time loop from this damned curse. “Well as I said…I have not kissed in quite some time and it can be a cause for potent reactions.”

            “I did not hurt you did I?”

            “No, it is not that fragile of flesh.” He would of laughed had he not been so embarrassed. “Now we should be on our way.”

            “I have read it can be painful though,” To his misery she was not about to let this go, as he groaned softly running a paw across his face.

            “Always so bloody curious…”

            “You said you would indulge me.” She patiently reminded him, “And, and I see no reason for you to be acting so bashful-after all your hand was up my skirt I believe we are on quite even field here.” The reminder came with a note of irrefutable creditability. The response to her intellectual warfare was a reluctant pout on his behalf as though he so badly longed to argue but knew there were no facts to refute his position. Sighing he tried once more to find some air of dignity.

            “Yes it is very sensitive, no it is not as fragile as china or an infant. It takes more force-especially for me, to generate that sort of pain. Friction like that is on the contrary…very pleasant. Satisfied?” Belle stared momentarily, then took a step closer to him once again-the opposite he had hoped for as it made the desire twist even more intensely.

            “Meaning when my leg brushed by,” again he felt undone by those brown eyes and gave nodding low growl. “Tell me, did you do the same thing as I to bring self relief to your thoughts of me?” She was close enough now he could kiss her again if he so desired.

            “No…I did not want to disrespect you in such a way…”

            “Do you feel disrespected by my actions?”

            “The absolute opposite…” His hand was cupping her face again, she was so close-and that kiss needed to go on longer if possible.

            “Could I kiss you again-“ And with those words he tilted her chin forward instantly ready to indulge her request. The eroticism only grew, for this time as his arms pulled her closer, and her body became pressed against his own-tightly, there was no attempt to hide the erection between them. The warmth of her thighs against his pant line was the most maddening and satisfying thing he could have ever dreamed. Somehow this entire moment was more thrilling that a completely nude and penetrative orgy. And her hand was against his chest, fingers curled into his shirt-one had idly landed upon his thigh to balance herself. The inertia was driving, and her curious fingers wanted to slide toward the hardened flesh which could be felt even through the fabric between them. Then the moment ended with a bell. Adam let her go as if she were scalding to the touch.

            “That-that would be the supper bell…” His breath was unsteady, and self-control barely held together. To his relief the expression on her face was also one of shock, and flushed heavy breaths.

            “I am afraid we would drown in good intentions if the staff were to learn of this.” For a moment her mind was reeling-it felt as though she had just come up from under water and was now being asked to walk and talk like a normal human once more.

            “I assure you it would be more than good intentions, a word will not escape me.” He added with a grumble. The thought of Cogsworth’s lecturing, Lumiere’s prying for details, and Mrs.Potts’ general motherliness was enough to dampen the arousal and make his breeches in a much more presentable state.

            “Thank you, I can guarantee the same…” She added in a soft voice, a part of her wanted to be bashful-but there was a strange elation at what had just transpired, leaving a bizarre small smile. As Adam stood they now resumed a proper distance from one another, walking side by side down the grand corridor. After a moment a small chuckle left him which caught her tense attention. “Is something funny?”

            “I was merely thinking I thought I had outgrown my days of sneaking to be presentable before my staff after having just shared a kiss.” Belle tsked to his half smirk.

            “Do I look presentable then?”

            “I assure you, no one will notice-more likely I will be lectured about getting tea on my white frock-they are all too preoccupied with learning your research findings.”

            “Oh I completely forgot I never even went over my notes with you!” Her mind had switched gears at the prospect of her quest. Adam’s ears perked in intrigue, as he looked over at her.

            “You mean you found an answer in all of your notes?”

            “Well, not exactly an answer but some promising leads…”

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Thank you for the incredibly touching comments-they really motivate and inspire me! I apologize for the delay in update-work got especially busy. But I'm so happy to be writing again and sharing, especially knowing people are waiting! 
> 
> Here is the Alchemy book Belle read-hopefully I can stick to weekly updates from here on out!   
> https://archive.org/details/coelumphilosopho00ulst (Good luck if you can read Latin! Otherwise enjoy the pictures :) )


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